


Vulnerability

by IwriteDreams



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I worked so hard on this, M/M, Ryan is a baby, Symbolism, Way too much symbolism, everything, instead of eating, it's a never ending well, like seriously, pining!shane, pleAse validate me, read into this as deep as you like, the best thing I've ever written, this is a cry for help, way too cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 10:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13456416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IwriteDreams/pseuds/IwriteDreams
Summary: Do you sometimes think about that nightThe night were i really saw you cryThe night i held you closer than i ever haveAnd wonder what might’ve happenedHad i had the same courage as youTo tell you what you meant to meWhat might’ve happenedHad you loved me first, and her secondRather than pushing me off to maybe a second choiceOr maybe a never choiceI think I forgot how to do it a long time agoThat or youMade me indulge in it for foreverAnd i didn’t know how to recognise itBut even so i think this once i can grit my teethAnd try to be as brave as youBecause you are for me





	1. Cherry Drop

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so happy to be writing this! My editor is back, and I wrote this all the way back in November, worked really hard on it, and had a blast. I hope you will enjoy it!
> 
> (To fans of 'ABC Emotions Of Shane Madej'... raise your standards. This is what my writing usually looks like. instead of a daily, unedited, terribly paced writing dump.)
> 
> (Thanks for reading both of them, though)
> 
> (Keep in mind that I wrote this story first... it just took forever to post)

“Okay… I’m turning the light out.”

 

Ryan sucked in a breath, feeling dust and fear catch in the roof of his mouth. “Fuck you, dude! Why are you doing this?!”

 

It was a whisper shout up the stairwell, to where Shane held the only flashlight they had packed between the two of them. Of all the places they had forgotten to pack extra batteries, this is one of the places Ryan wished he’d remembered. 

 

“If it makes you feel any better, I happen to think this is among the creepier of the haunted places we’ve visited together…” Shane admitted.

 

“How is that supposed to make me feel better?”

 

“It isn’t.”

 

“...Fuck.”

 

Ryan swore under his breath, glancing around him. Shane and his long legs had trekked up the stairs of the Florida lighthouse faster than his, and once they were far enough apart, Shane  had  proposed a moment of silence to welcome ghosts. Shane had given the supernatural the benefit of the doubt this time. He had admitted earlier that a few things were slightly out of place, and while the feeling of victory wasn’t there, the feeling of terror  certainly  was.

 

“You're an asshole!”

 

“A smart one. A smart, handsome one, yes.” Shane smiled, teasingly, like the asshole that he was. “Come on- I want to see what this alleged ‘Mona Lisa of Paranormal Sites' is all about.”

 

“Fuck you, too.”

 

“Seriously- I want to see these dead girls!” Shane said. “I want to… I don’t know, what do little girls do? Paint their nails with the blood of the innocent?”

 

 

“Talk about boys they like?”

 

“Yeah- we can talk about all the boys we like together,” Shane chuckled.

 

“The boys you ALL like? Together?” Ryan laughed.

 

“Ha ha. Very funny. They’d talk about boys, I’d talk about girls- happy now?”

 

A crow called from outside, croaking up sounds from its throat, as though it were chanting some eerie song that only it knew, and Ryan tried to swallow away his panic.

 

“Not that being gay or queer is bad- or anything!” Ryan jumped to say, to save himself from a comment section of enraged people- but mostly to drown out the creepy crows, and the equally creepy lighthouse. 

 

“Okay… So- I, uh… I'm turning the light out now!” Shane called down, retreating to the outside of the stairwell to where he was outside of Ryan's field of view. 

 

“Please, no!’

 

“You’re just being a wimp!”

 

“Shut up!” He felt a little riled up. He always did when Shane teased him. “This place is seriously freaky dude!”   


“It’s a lighthouse! It’s been abandoned for like- forty years. What did you expect, a ghost running a fucking juice bar? Of course it’s freaky!”   


“I’m putting that on your grave when you die here tonight,” Ryan threatened. “Shane Madej, believer in ghosts running juice bars and lover of umbrella murders.”

 

“Hey, I am a proud member of the Umbrella Man fan club.”

 

“Whatever, man…”   


 

“Look- I’m turning the light off,” Shane warned again.    


“I… Please- fine. One minute?” He finally gave in. Shane was the one with the flashlight anyway, and there was only so much he could do to bargain with him.   


“One minute,” Shane promised. “It’ll be fine.”

 

“Classic last words,” Ryan joked nervously.

 

“Okay… One… two… three.”  Click.

 

All the warmth and light sucked out of Ryan as the decaying lighthouse plunged into darkness. The only light he could make out came from far above, and was that of the moon- it was so dim that Ryan could only make out the inside of the winding staircase and its metal railings.   


After a quiet moment, Ryan's heart thumping louder than it had ever in his life- he heard Shane shift.

 

“Ryan, what the fuck was that?” Shane’s voice from above echoed on every step of the stairwell. Ryan opened his mouth to inform him that he had no fucking idea what it was when Shane’s voice came again.   


“RYAN! I swear to god!”

 

“Shane?! What’s happening?!”

“Fuck," was all Ryan could hear. “Ryan, come fast! Please! Help!”

 

Ryan gripped the railing, his heart flurrying in his chest like a wild animal attempting to burst free from a cage. “What the hell is happening?! Turn the light on!”   


“It’s not turning on! Ryan, I’m getting scratched- what the fuck?!”

 

“I’m coming!” He called, looking to the staircase at his feet. The murky depths below promised that he couldn't see all the way down. “I'll be up there- just- hang on!” He drew his first hesitant footstep in the dark, overshot it, and nearly tripped as his foot jammed itself between the steps. 

 

“Ryan-  I feel like I'm fucking dying, just take your fucking time!”   


“Are you okay?!” Ryan gritted his teeth. He was ready to conquer his fear of open back stairs, and he quickly felt for a foothold through his shoe, before leaping up the stairs as fast as his fear would allow.

 

 

“Ryan…” It came as a soft gasp from up the steps, “Help… please.”

 

Ryan squinted, straining his eyes as far as they could see. “Shane?!”

 

From what he could see as he fearfully flew up the steps, there was a lump on the floor- presumably Shane, crumpled on the steps. He turned his head slightly, as he picked up the faint sounds of- something else, something he couldn't quite register yet. It sounded like crying, with all the tell-tale sniffling, and suffocated releases of air.   


“Shane! Oh, my God- fuck. Are you okay?!” He knelt beside him immediately. “Shane? Shane!”

 

Shane didn’t answer, his faint pleas only becoming weaker as though something was keeping him from speaking. 

 

“Shane? Shane...?” There was nothing but silence and an eerily motionless pile of lanky limbs beside him.    


“Shane!” He pushed on him, shoving him back and forth. “Oh, God- Shane-  Shane!”

 

He heard a bubbling giggle emit from somewhere. The realization may as well have slapped him in the face when the sudden, overwhelming burst of understanding finally dawned on him. 

 

“Shane?!”

 

Shane rolled over onto his back on the floor, clutching his sides as he burst into peals of laughter. He flicked the light on, the quiet tick received mutedly by the rest of the hall, alive with the sound of Shane's wheezing. 

 

“You- Are you fucking serious?!” Ryan cried. “I thought you were  dying!"

 

“That-” Shane wheezed. “That was the point, yeah! Man, you bought into that?!”   


“Shut up!” Ryan’s face turned red with the colors of rage and disbelief “I can’t believe you would do that to me!"

 

 

Shane gasped for air. “I can’t believe you thought I was dying! I’m a  terrible  actor!” Howling, still, he tried to pull himself up onto his side. 

 

“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t care- goddamnit!”

 

A self-absorbed, trembling grin on his face, Shane finally managed to sit up. “I’m sorry, but  holy shit, that was priceless.” 

 

Ryan scowled, the outside of his lip catching under sharp teeth. "I fucking hate you. I hate you!"

 

Before he could reign in his own emotions, Ryan felt himself grabbing at the collar of Shane's red plaid flannel. He wrenched him off the ground, and brought his hand down across Shane's face in a resounding ' slap!'   


“Ow! What the fuck?!”    


Ryan's tone was on the brink of an animalistic growl. “How  dare you scare me like that, you jackass! I hate you! I need you to be safe, and  not dead! Why would you do that?”

 

Shane's hand met his skin at the right side of his face, stubble scratching under his fingertips as his cheek stung indignantly. “Why would you do  that?!”

 

Ryan sighed, willing for his heart to calm. “Why would you pretend to die?! I really care about you!”   


“You don't care about me, shut up.” Shane smiled. “Trust me, you shouldn't.”

 

“Well, I do! You're my best friend, for fuck's sake! Who would care if you died more than me!?”   


“Okay, jeez… I'm sorry. It was funny, though.”

 

“It wasn't!” Ryan spluttered. “Look, I… that scared me.”

 

Shane looked down, looking somewhat ashamed for a change. “Okay… I admit, I would care if you died, too… I just didn't think you were capable of complex emotion beyond hatred and piss-yourself fear.” He looked up with his trademark shit-eating grin. “I  am  sorry though.”   


“No, you're not,” Ryan accused, slowing down his frantic breathing the best he could.

 

 

“Yeah, I'm really not.”   


Ryan stood up shakily, and offered his hand to Shane. “Look… I know that we bicker a lot… but I do care when things happen to you.”

 

Shane took it, and pulled himself up with less effort than Ryan figured it would take. His posture had been waiting for a heavy tug, and instead, he had received a light, fast pull. “I don't know what you're talking about. Ryan? With feelings?”   


“Stuff it.” 

 

Shane was on his feet, towering over him and still rubbing his cheek. Ryan couldn't help but step in closer, meeting Shane halfway. Wrapping his smaller arms around his waist, he hugged him for a moment that was all too quick in passing, and to uncommon in practice.   


His face pressed into the buttons of Shane's flannel shirt, worn from wear, and smelling vaguely of cinnamon.   


“Ah… okay, then,” Shane puffed questioningly from above- though after a moment, Ryan felt Shane's chin on his head. “I guess we're doing this now?”   


Ryan hummed an affirmative as he hugged him closer. It was a friend thing, right? Most friends don't want their friends to die, and this was normal. It was a ghost of the truth, and a healthy helping of the spoon-fed lie he had crafted for himself.    


“Okay… whatever.” 

 

Ryan had forgotten that the cameras were still rolling until he saw that they were hugging in the newest episode of  Buzzfeed: Unsolved Supernatural when it aired. 

 

Same time, next week.

 

 

“Ryan?” Shane blinked, trying to make sure it wasn't just his imagination. “Look, I know you get freaked out, but… are you okay, man?”   


Shane set down his Sausage McMuffin which he had snagged from a McDonalds on his way to work that morning. He leaned back in his chair to get a better look at Ryan, shifting on his feet in the doorway.   


Ryan didn't answer immediately, but his bag fell to the floor as soon as Shane asked, like he couldn't bear to hold it any longer. 

 

“Ryan?” He prompted again, still to no effect. “My man?”

 

 

Ryan shuffled over to the seat beside him at the desk they shared, one case folder dropping onto the table. Little doodles of what looked like fireflies decorated the corners. Ryan dropped himself in the seat with all his weight, with not so much as a glance in Shane's direction before burying his face in his palms.  

 

Shane peered at him confusedly, but he wasn't feeling up to ask again. Ryan seemed to be on the verge of snapping, or the verge of  something,  at least . It was hard to tell when he didn't even speak.   


Shane just kept quiet, trying to relax a bit for Ryan's sake. Glancing at the folders he'd dropped down, he noticed the plane tickets for their next film location. It was a prison in Pennsylvania, which they were set to fly to that afternoon.

 

“Ryan… did something come up?” He asked carefully. There was a stone in Shane's chest. He wasn't the best when it came to helping people feel better. It tended to become personal and touchy-feely, and neither of those things were feelings he was well-versed in, particularly with Ryan. It wasn't something that had ever come up, and it was awkward to try to reach out to somebody who didn't fall strictly in the categories of friend or family. Frankly, he wasn't sure how to approach the situation, and so he didn't, even though he felt guilty for doing nothing.    


Behind his hands, Ryan nodded.

 

“Do you… should I know? Do you not want to talk about it?”

 

Shane bit his lip.  'If you're going to get upset in a professional setting, call your girlfriend about it first, or at least tell people what the fuck your deal is.'  It was worse for both that Ryan didn't say anything. He was usually vocal about his problems, not that he ever had too many he couldn't handle alone anyway.   


Ryan took a deep breath, obviously trying his hardest to repress whatever emotions were so painfully bubbling up inside him.    


“Look… I'm not sure how to help you if you don't say anything, man. You don't have to tell me what happened, but… let's not have…” Shane gestured to him. “... This happening, okay?”

 

Ryan pee k ed out from behind his hands, his expression blank, and Shane thought for a moment that it might be a prank, as revenge for his faked death. But as Ryan spoke, it was painfully obvious that he was just fucked beyond expressing his emotions properly. 

 

“It's… Helen,” He said finally, his voice watery and weak.

 

Shane felt his mouth form a perfect circle. “...Oh.” 

 

 

Ryan's breath hitched for a moment, and he finally met Shane's gaze. A betraying pink rimmed his eyes, and his complexion was soft with the pallor of a lingering numbness.

 

“She… I don't know.” 

 

Shane looked around at a room of inanimate objects for help with the situation, but nothing jumped out to help him. He lamely offered a travel mug of tea to Ryan, only for Ryan to push it away, as anybody would.   


“Well… You might be just… going through a rocky bit. All couples do.”

 

And Ryan broke down sobbing.    


A slur of broken swears slipped from between his clenched teeth, as he wiped the tears as they appeared. He was severe, intense about keeping it back, as though crying in front of Shane was the worst, most awkward thing ever. Which, to Shane, it was. 

 

Between the varied array of “shit” and “I'm sorry" and all the repressed sniffling, Ryan eventually opened his phone.

 

He opened it with a shaky fingerprint that took a few tries. Each failed attempt seemed to break him a little more, and his mounting frustration reappeared in fresh waves of tears. Ryan opened a chat, and, between his wet sleeves and shaky breathing, scrolled up a bit and held it up for Shane to look at without touching.

 

 

TO: Helen <3

 

Helen: I can't fucking believe you would do that.

 

Ryan: So it's all MY fault? I'm sorry I give a shit about other people.

 

Helen: you know what? Fuck you Ryan. We've been thinking about it for a while and you can't fucking listen to me. We're over, I'm breaking up with you, and I'm not changing my mind. Good. Riddance.

 

 

Ryan: WHAT?!!! Fine! Maybe I will go find better people who aren't this hung up over my personal life, bitch

 

Helen: IM THE BITCH?!?!

 

(Enter a message... )   


 

The screen flicked off.

 

Ryan, still hiccupping slightly, stared straight though Shane to the wall behind him.

 

“Well… I... Shit.”

 

“Yeah…” Ryan croaked. “... Yeah.”

 

“Ryan…” Shane tried again. There was something very comforting about saying his name.    


“I… don’t know what to say.”

 

“I’m-” Ryan took another deep breath. “I’m not sure, either.”   


“Why did she- why?”

 

Ryan just trembled, dropping his hands as he stared blankly at the tabletop before him, devoid of emotion. 

 

“I… I don’t want to talk about it."

 

How would Ryan  want  him to respond? He’d have no idea. He wasn’t comfortable in situations like this, and in the wake of being thrust into an intensely personal crisis, he had no idea what to do. 

 

“I’m so sorry… If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know, okay?”   


 

Ryan nodded listlessly, avoiding his gaze again, seeming smaller than he usually was. “Thanks." He looked away again. “I’m sorry- I… I need a minute.”

 

Shane stood up with Ryan, suddenly feeling the very real urge to reach out and catch his shoulder. He shook it off. He wasn’t sure if that was standard protocol, or if he should play it safe. Both on their feet, Ryan headed for the door first without looking up. 

 

“O-Okay... I’ll be here if you need me!” Shane called out after him.

 

The clap of the door against the frame was the last viable response he got from Ryan as he departed. A swinging door, and an empty silent room. Shane alone, a disarray of papers on the table, and the muted, lonely song of crows outside the closed window were all the room held. 

 

Nothing moved for another moment, and Shane gave up on standing, flopping back down into his desk chair. He leaned over Ryan’s obnoxious files and grabbed his red pen off the table to spin between his fingers as he read a part of the scripts that was peeking out. 

 

Something told him that they wouldn’t be boarding the flight to Pennsylvania today.    


Shane wasn’t heartless. If Ryan was so upset over his very real life right now, why torture him with some haunted prison in Pennsylvania? It was stupid, and cruel, and even though Ryan annoyed him to no end, they were friends.

 

Friends.

 

He had to wonder what Ryan did for Helen to break off from him so suddenly. He couldn’t imagine Ryan doing anything  that bad .  Ryan wasn't in the habit of being disrespectful, and things hadn't seemed tumultuous as of late.    


The worst part was that Helen never made empty promises. She had always been a strong woman of her word, with pride and integrity to plate it. 

 

He wondered where Ryan would’ve gone off to. Somewhere alone for a minute, maybe for a walk. He didn’t seem to want to see anybody, though, which makes Shane question whether he would really duck out for fresh air at all. A part of him wants to chase after him, but it might be worse if Ryan did finally return to an empty room.   


Shane drew his phone from his pocket and slid it open. He began to scroll though the  Buzzfeed: Unsolved Facebook page. 

 

 

It took him three minutes before he realized that he was reading the words without understanding them.    


He glanced over at the door. Was Ryan even coming back at all? He was beginning to doubt it. 

 

He stared back at the comment thread he was trying to read, not recognizing the usernames he’d read only moments ago. Clueless, thoughtless Shane. His eyes stared blankly at the screen a moment more as he tried to gather his thoughts- not just what he was reading- and finally gave up. 

 

Finally, he closed out of Facebook, saving the stupid thoughts and people who made no sense for another day. Or, later today. They didn’t matter. Only one person really did at that moment.   


He scrolled down shallowly into his message history and picked out Ryan’s name. Yesterday's messages were left unperturbed.

TO: Ryan Boogara

 

Ryan: DUDE!!! I swear to god it wasn’t fuckn cool you scared me real bad!

 

Shane: I promised I would treat you to Chipotle CHILL

 

Ryan: Your life is more important than a meal at Chipotle

 

Shane: That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Who are you, and where is Ryan?

 

Ryan: Haha, very funny

 

Ryan: You know I care. Please never do that again.

 

Shane: I promise… you’ll need more than some imaginary dead people to kill me

 

Ryan: THEY AREN'T IMAGINARY I SWEAR TO GOD

 

Shane: There he is   


 

Ryan: I hate you   


Shane: Love you too, buddy.

 

TODAY:   


Shane: Ryan you running late?   


Shane: Jet lag, now that we’re back home?

 

Shane: Wait- wouldn’t jet lag be the other way around?   


Shane: ???

 

Shane: Dude pick up I can’t record this episode on my own

 

Shane: Ryan

 

(Enter a message... )   
  


 

Shane frowned, suddenly gaining the capacity to read as he fluttered along the messages. He seemed so harsh, so rude and insensitive just for asking what was wrong. Why was he even going to try?   


Still, he couldn’t just do nothing. He tapped on the 'type message' bar, waiting for his laggy keyboard and his own courage to appear.   


[ Hey… you need me to get you? I’m worried. ]

 

Shane stared at the message after he typed it, somehow making three typos in the process with butterfingers. Should he even mention that he was worried? Would that let him know that Shane cared, or would that make him feel guilty for causing a problem- how could he even tell the difference?

 

He was too tired to really try rewriting it again, and even if it made Ryan feel guilty, it was the more truthful of his options, so he hit send. He held his breath, waiting for a response. When it didn't come immediately, he sighed. He flicked off his phone and slumped back into his chair.

 

His finger caught a piece of his flannel shirt over his heart, and he twisted it in his hand for a moment, realizing belatedly that the button that should be there  isn’t.    


 

He figured that it was a good time to force his thoughts back into his big head, and he started to pick at the edges of his Sausage McMuffin. He felt the crunchy bits below his fingertips, felt them disintegrate  into nothingness, leaving behind no trace that they’d ever been there. Despite the whole muffin being there, nobody would think that any of the outside was missing. 

 

Pulling off and hiding the little things didn’t get rid of the whole problem, though.

 

Ryan stared at his phone.

 

There was nobody to be seen in the janitor’s closet. 

 

He wondered if Shane ever hurt like this. Wondered if sometimes he wasn't the only one who felt like one thing could make and ruin your life at the same time. 

 

It’s a specific thing to feel. It's something he wanted to explain to the world, but was afraid that nobody in their right mind would understand. 

 

His phone had vibrated a little while ago, with an incoming message of worry and concern for him, but Ryan had his own sneaking suspicion that Shane didn’t give a shit about what he was going through. He probably only cared about being somewhere within the realms of social norm, and filming the next episode of  Unsolved .    


Shane wasn’t in tune with emotions the way every other human being was. His stature was large, and his heart was woefully lacking. He wasn't the person one deliberately looked for to find comfort and solace in, but there he was. It was refreshing in a way. In a way Ryan didn’t know how to put into words, either. 

 

At least he’d had the courage to at least inform Shane about what was wrong. Not  why, but at the very least,  what. 

 

The “why” might make things messy. 

 

Especially for Shane, who couldn’t figure out how he should go about showing affection or discontent to his friends on a regular basis. What the hell would he think if he was forced into this abstract, sloppy situation of having caused his best friend’s break up?

 

 

What then?

 

Ryan had felt a little selfish in calling himself Shane’s best friend. But nobody else came to mind when he mashed the two terms together. The definitive difference was that best friends are usually the ones to help you patch up over a break up. they aren't as commonly the cause of them.

 

The texts between him and Helen had been sloppy, too. Disorganized, a multitude of things. The one thing that kept repeating over and over, though, was Shane. 

 

'Shane this, Shane that, You care about him more than me, you never come to me with your problems, he’s all you ever talk about, you're disloyal, and you care more about his safety than mine, you and Shane, for Shane, for SHANE, Shane Shane, Shane, Shane.'

 

Shane.

 

The million-dollar question was whether they could afford to simplify the messy problem at their feet. Or would they be able to find a messy solution for the messy question?   


Ryan smirked. That last one was stupid. There was no way they’d be able to do that- no possible reality in which they might somehow figure it everything out. 

 

He stared at the wall of the dusty closet and was, somewhere along the line, taken back to his younger days. To sunlight and shadow, the incomprehensible scribbles of childhood. To worrying what other people thought, how they had treated him. People poking fun at the fact that he was alone- and helpless. 

 

When he was little, he used to think that bad thoughts and self-hatred could be fixed with medicine, and every time he felt alone, he’d start sucking on a cherry cough drop. Since then, he'd taken to keeping them in the lint-filled pockets of his jeans.

 

He was ‘making everything more tolerable', one thick, sickening candy at a time. His childhood pockets had been filled with wrappers knotted in sticky pink residue.

 

The blanket of slime on his tongue made him gag, and he couldn’t eat cherries for years after learning that fixing your lack of love wasn’t so easy. The girls around him would bring cherries in their lunches, to share with their boyfriends, but he had cherry syrup in his pockets. Hardened and fake. Real cherries weren't for him, and he doubted that they ever would be.

 


	2. One Step at a Time

Twenty minutes was far too long. Shane had the time to consider five versions of aliens that could feasibly exist, and calculate that there are 1,200 seconds in twenty minutes by the time Ryan finally emerged in their doorway.

Shane’s knee-jerk reaction was to come out full swing with a more or less snide remark about keeping him waiting. Patience isn’t one of his main virtues, and despite that, he managed to bite back his sarcastic urges.

“Hey,” Ryan said. It was the flattest sounding thing Shane had ever heard come out of his mouth. It was not packed with joy, or excitement, and it wasn’t, conversely, condensed by fear, or even weighted with anticipation. It exists. That is the only thing that can be said about it, otherwise.

“Hey,” Shane responded. He remembered briefly a passage from a book that claimed that mirroring someone’s actions or personal vernacular was a good tactic in forming meaningful connections.

To be fair, though, the book had been a tabloid-oriented article authored by someone claiming to be a “Love Doctor”, delivering cheap and easy love advice to its small, but dedicated, audience. Frankly, Shane wouldn’t sweat the details in his current circumstances.

“So, uh… I’m sorry,” Ryan muttered. His shoulders were directly in line with his feet.

Shane was hesitant to down-play the issue. “It’s all good. I’m not going to judge you or anything like that- you care about other people. Big shocker.”

Ryan stared down at the floor. “Apparently it was news to you.”

“About that…” He tried to defend himself briefly. When no words rose immediately in his defense, he resorted to another guilty silence.

“It’s… whatever,” Ryan said.

Shane bit his lip. “So… Hey. I’m assuming we’re not taking the plane to Pennsylvania in two hours. Am I getting that right?”

Ryan sighed, slumping down. “Probably. I’m so sorry that I can’t do anything about that.” His voice lacked the bitter edge necessary to carry a healthy sarcastic tone. It sounded sadder than anything else he had said.

“Ryan- I care too, man. If you’re not feeling up to it, then we’ll wait for another day.”

“Are you sure?”

Shane nodded. “I think we need a vacation. If you don’t mind me saying so.”

“I don’t.” Ryan slumped, his posture sagging defeatedly as he crosses his arms. “Not even remotely.”

“Cool. So, I mean, if you’re already burnt out on me you can go home, if you want. I’ll let the others know where you are.” He opened his mouth, ready to continue, and then something caught him up. His mouth slacked.

Ryan looked as though he had just realized it himself. His arms slipped loose of their knot in front of his chest.

“Dude,” Shane trailed off. “Shit, man… Do you- Do you have a place to stay?”

His lips parted, Ryan flicked his glance down to the floor and frowned decisively. “I was just gonna rent a hotel for the night, honestly.”

Shane shook his head. “I would kind of be the shittiest friend on this planet if I let that slide.”

“Apparently, we aren't friends, though.”

“Shut up, Ryan.”

“Seriously, dude, there are cheap hotels around. It’s all good.”

“Shut up, Ryan,” Shane groaned. “You can come stay with me. Please. I’m visiting my parents tonight for my dad’s birthday. You’re coming- we’ve got enough room. Don’t even worry about it.”

“That’s, like, a family event!” Ryan spluttered.

Shane squared his shoulders, staring at him intently. “Look, man. I don’t know if you know this, but Mark Madej lives his life under principles of ridiculous hospitality and a love for other people. He’d be ecstatic to have a guest, and I don’t want you staying in a hotel any more than you have to. We do that all week, man… just come over. We can have pie and it’ll be merry and shit.”

“No, no way,” Ryan told him. His hands were out in front of him defensively. “That’s just- intrusive.”

“Nonsense.” Shane reasoned, pulling out his phone. “Let me tell you here and now that my parents have been dying to meet the real Ryan Bergara. You’ll make my dad’s day. And my mom’s. All you gotta do is show up and sleep under the same roof as them.”

“Shane, really- I’d love to, but I don’t want to cause any trouble-“

Ryan’s thought ended there as Shane’s phone started in the middle of a loud ring. It was on speakerphone. Shane held his phone proudly in his hand.

“Shane, what are you doing?” Ryan asked, eyes wide.

“Don’t worry about it.” Shane winked. He might not have been the best at helping other people, but he was pretty sure that he was doing the right thing.

The line rang once more and was immediately intersected by a clear, sweet voice that cut through with a brief patch of static. “Hey, sweetie. What’s up?”

Ryan quickly figured that this was Sherry Madej- Shane’s mother, and someone Shane had never failed to speak highly of.

“Hey, mom, I was wondering if it would be okay if I bought a guest for dinner. Ryan needs a place to stay,” Shane said bluntly.

“Ryan? As in, Ryan Bergara?” Sherry asked carefully, making Ryan shrink down into his own shirt a little bit. Shane smiled at him smugly. “Shane, you know you can bring your little friends over any time, and if Ryan needs a place to stay, your father and I would adore having him over! You tell him that, okay, sweetie?”

Shane grinned. “He can hear you, Mom, he’s right next to me.”

“He can?!” Sherry exclaimed. Shane chuckled, and Ryan smiled nervously, even though she couldn’t see him. He looked from Shane to the phone awkwardly before stepping a little closer and speaking, belatedly.

“Uh, I… Hello,” He choked out into the speaker between them.

“Ryan! Hello! I- Oh, my goodness… I’m Sherry Madej- I can’t wait to meet you! We’ve heard so much about you!”

Ryan laughed timidly. “Yeah- Likewise.”

“Okay,” Shane told his mother. “We have to go. Thanks, again, Mom.”

Ryan could hear Sherry’s faint voice as she yelled, away from the speaker, something that sounded like ‘Mark! Have I got news for you!’

“...Okay, sweeties,” She said, her voice facing them again. “I'll see you soon! And Ryan, don’t worry about impressing us. You already have, honey. See you two soon!”  
And with a click, it was over.

“I… Holy shit.” Ryan breathed. “That was your mom?”

“I told you she was a saint. So is Mark.”

“Also, hold the phone… They know about me?”  
Shane played it off with a small shrug. “Well, when they ask about work, what else am I going to talk about?”  
Ryan stared down at his hands on the table. Maybe it was little acts of kindness that were the true medicine for loneliness.

“Thanks. I guess, I mean… that’s pretty nice.”

Shane attempted to roll over the sudden bout of heartfelt emotion. “Either way, you’ve got more pressing things on your mind right about now.”

“Don’t remind me,” Ryan groaned, but it felt more staged than genuine. It was as though Shane had restored all the happiness back in him.

“Man, I’m really sorry about that.”

Ryan just smirked wistfully. “It’s all good… It happens. You know?”

Shane huffed a sigh. “I guess I would.”

“For the record, though… Fuck Sara for dumping you.”

“I had it coming. At least we’re still friends.”

“Yeah, I guess. But still,” Ryan sighed. “If I were her, I sure as hell wouldn’t have taken you for granted like that. You’re a catch.”

Shane’s heart blinked out of existence with a painful throb. “Y-” He nearly choked. “You think I’m a catch?!”

Ryan grinned. “Well, sure, I mean- you’ve got the whole hunky… lumberjack thing… happening there…”

A bout of laughter caught him entirely off-guard. “I- WHAT?!”

“Okay- that came out weird!” Ryan covered for himself. “I- Why do I always say stupid shit like that?”

“It’s okay… It’s all good,” Shane managed to get out as he cascaded down a slope of mirth. Upon really registering the words, though, he felt his knees crumble beneath him. His smile weakened. “I… Oh shit.”

“What?”

Shane felt a wave of heat crash into him, and his smile persevered through it. “Don’t worry about it.”

Ryan gave him a skeptical look. “If you say so?”

Peering up at him, his smile dropped, and he slapped the desk with his hands in favor of an inquisitive look. “So, anyways, Ryan- what do you wanna do now? My parents live a couple hours out… It’s about lunchtime. Do you even have the shit from your own home?”

Ryan looked distraught that the conversation had suddenly turned to this, and Shane swallowed under the realization that he hadn’t tread as carefully as he ought to from that point out. Ryan was technical without a home now. That in itself was a rather chilling thought.

“I'm… still figuring it all out.” He admitted. “Like- It all just seems real… everywhere right now.”

“It’s all good. Let’s just… do that stupid thing you told me when Sara left. One step at a time?”

“... One step at a time.” Ryan repeated, like the dead mantra that it was.

“Yeah. Tonight, you can stay at my parent’s place, tomorrow, you can sleep at my place, and try asking Helen for your shit back- or I could ask for you.”

“It’s all good. I’ll think about it,” Ryan said quickly.

Shane smiled. There was the real Ryan- Apprehensive, yet determined to crawl through hell and live to tell the tale. Figuratively, and literally- While Shane just sprouted memes at demons. Maybe he really was the thick one between them.

“Take all the time you need. Meanwhile, do you wanna get the hell out of here before people start asking questions?”

Then, Ryan broke into a genuine smile. Still tampered with nervousness, but there was a certain angle on his crooked grin that helped Shane tell that he was actually happy to be asked that.

“Yes, please.”

Shane stood. “There’s a Chipotle at the halfway mark between here and there… It’s about two hours out? And it’s a nice hiking trail if you want to stall for time on the way there.”

Ryan wheezed, and he pushed himself up with weak arms. “I don’t think I’m up for one of your bigfoot hikes.”

“Bigfoot could hike way more than me.”

“Bigfoot doesn’t exist.”

“You don’t exist.”

Ryan shoved him, and Shane faked a little stumble back to help Ryan feel accomplished, feeling too tired himself to retort with anything.

“I could go for a burrito though, honestly. And also, fuck this place. I’d rather be at the Sallie house than here right now.”

Shane raised his eyebrows. “Really?!”

“No.”

Shane laughed again. Ryan would never live down the stunt he pulled, leaving the Sallie house early- but as much as he made fun of himself for it- Shane tried his best not to mention that place, if only for Ryan’s sake. It was just the nice thing to do.

“Regardless. Let’s get outta here, baby!” He winked, smiling to himself in the face of dumb luck.

“Please don’t call me baby.”

“No promises.”

Ryan rolled his eyes- but as their eyes met again, Ryan gave him a genuine look, and with the most amount of sincerity Shane had ever heard him speak with, he said, “Thank you, Shane. I really needed it.”

There was something in his soft smile that was like a baseball bat colliding with Shane’s face. A battering ram in his chest. There was something so perfect about it that totally caught him off guard in the most and least subtle way in history.

“Well, what was I gonna do? Fuckin’ leave you?” Shane said, stepping closer. “No way in hell.”

Ryan kept smiling at him, before looking down at his hands, playing with his own fingers for a moment.

It was something Shane has seen shy girls do on TV an awful lot. They played with their hands when they wanted human connection- but Ryan Bergara wasn’t a girl. Maybe he just fidgeted when he was nervous. It could be anything, really. He was probably reading into this more than was usually considered acceptable.

Looking at it, though, Shane came to a realization. The small seed of a plant he already knew full and well thrived. Ryan’s hands were so gentle-looking, soft palms and shorter fingers. Maybe Ryan wasn’t thinking about holding somebody’s hand, but Shane certainly was. He was caught staring at the pair he’d love to grasp onto, letting go a long time later, if he had any say in it.

“Thanks.” Ryan reiterated before turning towards the door, some hesitation in his step.

Shane followed suit. Ryan snagged his bag he’d left by the door and opened the door for the both of them.

“At least you’re packed for traveling,” Shane said. “I’d say that’s pretty lucky.”

“Yeah. I guess I’d agree with that.”

They stepped outside, out of the bustling halls of Buzzfeed, and into the cool outside air.

Shane stretched his arms and yawned. It was still too early in the morning to be dealing with these kinds of problems. He’d rather be dealing with this over a five o’clock beer. That would be much better.

“So now… I… I still don’t know what to do,” Ryan admitted. “It’s all a little jumbled.”

“I told you already. One step at a time,” Shane recalled. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Ryan shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Also- Just know that you can always tell me what’s wrong, right? Like- if you only gave me a half story, half lie- I still want to hear the whole thing. Just… I got your back, man.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Shane flinched as a sudden crow flew over his head, calling out to whoever knows what.

“Sure… just- I’m here man.”

“Thanks,” Ryan said, clearly done talking about it, despite Shane’s trail of conversation.

“…Chipotle?” Shane offered.

“Chipotle,” Ryan accepted, determinedly.

Relieved, and still grappling for the right words, they got into Shane’s crappy white Corolla.

They’d taken so many road trips in the car that Shane probably had more of Ryan’s shit in the trunk than Ryan had in his stingy little backpack, and the old air freshener had succumbed to a combination of both of their scents- beer, fast food grease, spices, tea, and notebook paper.

Frustrated at his slight incompetence in the situation, Shane jammed the keys into the ignition. Ryan didn’t say anything more, already staring longingly out the window. He stared out at all the nicer cars, and the crows perched upon a trunk of cherry red. He couldn’t hear their calls, but he could see them heaving.

He wondered what they were saying to one another.

They pulled out of the parking lot in silence.

_____

Shane had accompanied Ryan to a Chipotle more than once, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time they made a stop. People chatted amongst themselves, mingling by the counters, where underpaid employees worked to produce.

It was different in the car, where you could pass the silence off as comfortable. Even Shane knew that you couldn’t just take your best friend out to eat and not talk to them.

Stepping up to the counter together, and nervously plucking at the buttons of his shirt, he recited Ryan’s entire order in his head without flaw before Ryan had even finished exchanging pleasantries with the cashier- another thing Shane remembered Ryan doing without fail. As much as he’d pretend otherwise, he was a big softie- and politer than most people thought possible. Even with his world coming down around him, Ryan still had it in him to wish this stranger a hello and thanking them before he’d even asked anything of her.

He’s got to learn to think for himself every once in a while.

No sooner had Shane thought it, Ryan whisked his wallet out of his pocket and gave the girl a twenty-dollar bill. One for every minute of stress Shane had endured in worry for him, given to this girl. “Take that as a tip.”

Before he pulled out another twenty-dollar bill. “And I’m paying for him, too.” He nodded back.

The girl blinked in surprise, like forty dollars was the most currency she’d ever held in her hands with her cracked, painted nails. Shane sometimes wonders how nail polish, something that   
seems so whole, could crack like that.

“Ryan, I can pay you back later, man.”

Ryan waved a hand at him. “Do you know how much more expensive hotels are?”

“Ryan- it's really nothing.”

Ryan just shrugged. “Not like I have anybody who’s gonna judge my spending any more.”

Shane felt the pain in the words that weren't his own.

“Sir? Your order?”

It was the most genuine smile he’d ever seen on a Chipotle employee. She looked like she’d be the kind of girl to cover her smile with her hands, just like in those TV shows when they see cute boys- but she didn’t. She wasn’t nervous around the single, cute boy that had just given her a twenty dollar tip for no reason.

“Yes- Uh, I’d like a burrito with steak, queso, white rice and lettuce.”

“Anything to drink, sir?”

Ryan just shrugged. “Whatever you want.” he offered to Shane.

Shane felt bad, but he ultimately accepted the offer because holy shit an iced tea sounded fucking amazing.

He asked for his iced tea, and Ryan nodded knowingly while he waited for their food to come down the line to meet them. The cashier handed the foil rolls to Ryan, and a cold iced tea to Shane with a smile. Ryan returned the gesture, before tugging Shane’s sleeve, guiding them to a decently grime-free table.  
  
“You are a demon of kindness,” Shane commented, “She was so happy. Why did you do that?”

Ryan just shrugged again. “Just because my life is going a little off the rails, it doesn’t mean hers should.”

Ryan plopped into the seat across from him, exhibiting his strange preference for chairs, as opposed to booths.

“Are you just trying to show me up? Or- what’s happening here?” Shane asked, but he knew full and well that Ryan was just that kind sometimes.

Ryan laughed, picking up his burrito, and starting to unwrap it. The tinfoil was too hot to touch, and he set it down in favor of picking the foil off with his fingers.

“I just felt like it, you know? Makes me feel happy when other people feel good.”

Shane has to beat down the tiny part of himself that wants to tell Ryan, ‘You could make me feel good in all kinds of ways….’

He’s glad he still has a filter on his words.

“If it makes you feel any better than, you do make me feel pretty content- so take that.”

Ryan smiled, slipping his glasses on. He must’ve not put in contacts that morning. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Ryan’s eyes smiled back at him from behind glass. Ryan looked nice in his glasses. All black and wooden- like a nerd, but, man, did he pull it off.

“... Thanks. That means a lot.” Ryan smiled at him. His smile seemed to be contagious. If Ryan was feeling better, Shane would count that as a win and a half.

And suddenly Shane Madej was out of things to say. Like a champ.

“Okay, really though… Are we- are we going to fly over to Pennsylvania?”

“I hate to break it to you, buddy, but our flight left an hour ago.”  
Ryan sighed. “I know. I know… but like, soon? Another flight?”

“Ryan, I’m not going to make you get on another flight when you’re feeling like this. You know I wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

Shane shook his head, tinfoil wrinkling under his ungraceful hands. “Look, remember when we were in the Sallie house? I got you out of there. I do care.”

“Yeah… trust me, I remember.”

What was that supposed to mean?

To be honest, Shane barely remembered much from the Sallie house. He was scared out of his mind- Ryan’s fear only amplifying his own. Just like that weird family in Australia- heightening paranoia against one another.

Shane knows he’s always a lot more scared then he lets on, but somebody’s gotta put on a brave face, and Ryan certainly won’t. Besides, ghosts are bullshit, and it was more of the ‘what if?’ of the paranormal that had Shane cowering as close to Ryan’s sleeping bag as he dared.

The only things he clearly remembered of the Sallie house was Ryan purposefully moving his sleeping bag closer to his, breathing fast, nervous chatter. Panicked and afraid.

“That was a helluva night.”

“Hell yeah, it was,” Ryan nodded, pale-faced. “I can’t believe you laid on the pentagram.”

“I can’t believe you think a little bit of washed away red paint could kill me,” Shane laughed. That part, he remembered. Satanic rituals, his ass. “Sorry- but you’re stuck with me.”

“I’m not stuck with you… I’m just… a little more stuck with you than most friends are.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel any better?”

“Eh… not really.”

“I can’t believe you were scared by a flashlight.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t think that place was creepy!”

Shane just shrugged. He didn’t notice until now, but the word ‘shrug’… it was like, a shoulder hug. Like his shoulders were hugging his neck.

Shane could really go for somebody hugging him around the neck about now.

“It was a little weird, to be fair… but it’s not like we were gonna die.” He wasn’t giving Ryan the satisfaction of admitting his true fears.

“Sallie! She might’ve killed us- there was a lot happening in that house- I’m amazed that I’m still alive after that.”

“Sallie was a thirty-four-year-old black woman.”

“It was about being an innocent form!”

“Then why not appear as a black little girl?! It’s just as innocent- that ghost was a fucking racist!”

“You’re impossible.”

“Here’s how I know that ghost doesn’t exist.” Shane proposed, taking a bite of his burrito. “The ghost of a black woman wouldn’t whitewash the history of the house.”

Ryan paused for a moment. Like he was genuinely considering the ridiculous notion. He probably was, for all Shane knew.

“Maybe- but it was what would appear more innocent to other people.”

“She’s promoting racism!”

“How do you explain the girl identifying Sallie as her old imaginary friend!?”

“She lied, because that would literally dupe the nation! It made a more captivating story.”

Ryan just shook his head. “You, my good sir… are just full of shit.”

“Why do you-”

“Full of shit.”

“I mean-”

“Full of shit.”

“Whatever…”

They ate in silence for another moment, before Ryan actually brought it all up- this time of his own accord.

“So… are you really sure that you’re okay with me staying with you?”

Shane grinned. “I’m positive. Dude, you’re my best friend… stay as long as you’d like. Besides, I’m staying with my parents to visit tonight, and again, they love guests. You’re doing me a favor.”

“How am I doing you a favor?”

“To distract from the fact that I’ll have to get my dad a crappy gift after this because the thing I ordered him didn’t arrive on time. I forgot until last week.”

“Shane!”

There it was, the Ryan Bergara cry of disappointment. Ryan always was on top of things like that. Anytime to celebrate, smile, cheer on his neighbors… Shane? Not so much.

It probably looked to Ryan, and everybody else, that he didn’t care. Which simply wasn’t true. He did care. He cared immensely, but sometimes tracking these things slipped by him, because most things in his own life did. And if he couldn’t track himself, forget about other people.

It was something he was seeking to improve.

Though, next to Ryan, who could forget his own birthday, yet know Shane’s off the top of his head, wasn’t the best either- who was he to talk?

“Well… what are you going to get him?”

Shane looked down at the floor guiltily. “Whatever the hell I can find at the Walmart between here and there.”

“Shane! What the fuck?”

“I ordered him this awesome custom T-shirt, it’s not MY fault that my Amazon Prime subscription ran out last week, and I didn’t notice until today!”

“I mean, technically it is!”

“It’s all good! Good things come to those who wait.”

“That… That proverb doesn’t really belong there.”

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

“What kind of gifts can you find at a Walmart, anyways?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Would I?”

“Probably not.”

Ryan wheezed a laugh around his burrito. “I thought so!”

Shane took a moment to smile to himself because not only was that adorable, but also because Ryan was apparently one of the uneducated people of this country.

“Walmart actually has some of the greatest mysteries of this world. You just have to know where to look.”

“What are you, a Walmart prophet or some shit?”

“Sponsored by Walmart.” Shane imitated his best announcer voice with a smirk. “I guess I will have to educate you on the ins and outs of any good Walmart.”

“Well, educate me away, you big dork.”

Shane chuckled around a slightly burning mouth of queso. He’d forgotten to ask for sour cream to help dampen the spice, but he was too stubborn to admit it.

“I damn sure will.”

Ryan just smiled, and to Shane’s delight, didn’t mention anything depressing again.

“For real, though… I did find a pretty interesting online theory about bigfoot- just by the way.” Ryan casually shrugged, digging his phone out of his pocket. “Hold up… I think you’ll find this interesting.”

Shane leaned forward a bit, burrito almost finished, as Ryan found the article he was looking for in a flash.

“Studies on the Bigfoot and Sasquatch footprints we’ve found, it’s highly likely that they have nerve receptors in their feet, too tiny to see with the human eye. Casts of footprints were sent to a lab and showed that they might be able to pick up on very acute moving energies-”

“No.”  
_____________

“That’s… That’s what we’re going with?”

Ryan stared in disbelief at Shane’s cart of found treasures. “Were you surprised I came up with some cool stuff?” Shane asked.

Ryan just glanced behind him. Shane had left him in the video game aisle to peruse while he went in search of the gifts of fantasy.

“Cool stuff? It’s a fucking ping pong set!” He exclaimed.

“What do you have against ping pong, Ryan? I know your heart is the size of the Grinch’s, but Ping pong is a classic,” Shane said.

“It’s not a gift for your parents, though!”

“Why not? My parents love table tennis, and their old set is like… thirty years old. And the balls   
are tiny and misshapen.”

“That's what she said.”

“Ryan!- I- Fuck you! … Anyway- They need a new set before retirement.”

“Well… Okay, that’s fair- but what’s up with the fucking birdhouse?”

Ryan pointed acutely to the bottom of his cart, where a wooden structure lay. It was unpainted, factory-made…

“My dad loves a good crafts project, but he doesn’t have a talent for it, okay?”

“Why a birdhouse, though?”

“Because he likes birds!? What’s with this interrogation- who am I- Ricky Goldsworth?”

“Shut up, Shane.”

“I know that you have a hard time understanding feelings, but birds… are something my dad LOVES. Spell it out: L-O-V-E.”

“Says Shane Madej.”

“Fight me,” He says after an internal flinch. Maybe Ryan really did see him that way.

A couple of kids started racing through the aisle before them. A little boy chasing a little girl with pigtails, howling, screaming and yipping as they rocketed by. Shane scowled.

Ryan just shrugged. “I’m good, thanks. So- are we going to get anything else here? Or are we good to go?”

“Well… I was thinking that…. Since you have like, next to nothing… Maybe you buy back a couple of essentials?”

Ryan paled. “Oh.”

“What?”

“I just realized… me and Helen shared a bank account… And I’m about out of cash.”

Shane’s mouth opened. “Oh.”

Thinking fast and trying to depend on automatic social instincts kicking in, he stepped a little closer.

“It’s okay. We can wait. Once she’s calmed down, I’m sure she’ll return some that is rightfully yours. If not- You’ve got a whole network behind you to help you get back on your feet, and I’m not afraid to take this matter up with the law, you know? I’d say we wait for her to relax… and try again in a week. You guys had a lot between you. She’ll understand that there will be some technicality in breaking up, you know?”

Ryan just looked up at him for a moment. “You’re sure it won’t be any trouble?”

Shane shrugged. His neck deserved another shoulder hug today- loneliness does that to you.

“The bottom line isn’t about trouble, it’s about you being okay- now, are we getting you some clothes or not?”

“Well, I have no way to buy them, currently? If that didn’t… resonate with you?”

“It did- and I’m buying them, so there's that.”

“Don’t worry about it- I got… these.”

“Ryan…”

“Fine- Yes, I do need some clothes, but save a receipt so I can pay you back later.”

“I’m telling you not to worry about it.”

Ryan gave him another small smile, a true sign of victory. “Deal… Let’s make this quick though.”

“We’ve still got time to kill,” Shane assured him. “Let’s go.”

______________

Shane collapsed into his car seat. It still smelled like Ryan, who was tossing the Walmart bags into the back of his car.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, as Ryan settled in next to him, clicking his seatbelt on. Shane reached over to have another sip of his tea before they set off, even though it had considerably less ice and was actually more lukewarm than anything.

“Better, knowing I’ve got more than just… whatever I packed for the Pennsylvania trip.”

Shane smiled to himself as his car purred, sparking up with the turn of a key. Ryan looked a lot better in the new blue and grey flannel. A little more relaxed, a little more content- more secure.

“Good to hear. I’m glad that kind of took the edge off- and bonus points… There’s a seven-eleven I can walk to from my parent’s place, and we can buy you a new phone charger for cheap.”

“Shit- I didn’t even think about that,” Ryan mentioned. “Thanks.”

“Whatever I can do to help,” He concluded, pulling out of the parking space. “And… I got a new book for me, so I’m all set- and you have food, and a place to sleep for the night.”

Ryan hummed. “Thanks, again.”

“Anytime.”

There was a moment of silence as the car rolled out of the parking lot, where the only sound was the quiet chatter of Shane’s music- One Republic and other uplifting songs that felt a tad bit offensive. Somehow, maybe, it was soothing- he couldn’t tell.

“What book did you get?” Ryan asked eventually, staring out the window, not looking at him.

“The Sun and Her Flowers,” Shane said. “New book by Rupi Kaur. Great poet.”

Ryan looked at him, shifting from the corner of Shane’s eye, as he focused on the road ahead of him.

“You like poetry?”

“Yeah… What of it? I didn’t make all those Robert Frost jokes without knowing what I was talking about.”

Ryan looked slightly amazed. “I’ve never really read much poetry.”

Shane just huffed, frustrated that getting out of the parking lot was taking so long. Crappy drivers kept cutting him off. “It’s actually pretty great, you just gotta know where to look.”

“Like Walmart?”

“Stuff it.”

Ryan gave him his trademark hearty chuckle. “Maybe I’ll try it,” He conceded. “I haven't read a good book in a while.”

“May I point you in the direction of ‘Lights in The Attic’?” Shane recommended. “Or ‘The House On Mango Street’?”

“Why not?” Ryan chirped. “I just didn’t pin you as a poetry guy. I guess you learn something new every day.”

Shane took a moment to look at Ryan. It felt weird talking without looking at him directly. His hair sort of fell into his face, and his shoulders poked from his baggy flannel shirt. His kind smile, and nervous hands. Slouching over… just staring back at him. Shane could swear he could see his own reflection in Ryan’s eyes from the light outside.

“I… Suppose you do.”

Shane drove into the heavy traffic ahead.

____________

After a ride of quiet music, Ryan trying and somewhat succeeding to wrap the gifts in a moving car, and Shane trying not to crash into a ditch when he was being hit in the head with a wrapping paper tube every other second, Ryan felt the car stop. A little past a Seven-Eleven, on the corner of Court street and 6th Avenue in Sacramento, across the street from a bustling Mexican restaurant.

“This is it.” Shane gestures at the house before them, as if it wasn’t obvious from pulling into the driveway. Shane had a tendency to over-explain when he was nervous, and under-explain when he was frightened. Two very different things in the mind and life of Shane Madej, Ryan had found.

“I’m a little nervous,” Ryan offered, hoping that Shane felt a little better about it, as if they were in the same boat. Besides, Shane probably found it natural for Ryan to be the one quaking in his shoes over nothing.

Ryan knew he was an intruder here, and he didn’t want to cause any trouble.

Shane took a slouched over stance. “Don’t be, my parents are the best. They’ll probably be a little over-enthusiastic is all.”

“I think enthusiasm is a good problem to have?”

“We’ll see what you think in twenty minutes.”

Ryan laughed nervously- almost at nothing. Shane held his gifts, and walked up to the door, hopping over both steps like he’d done it a million times. He probably had. Shane was already knocking on the door- wood shuddering under the force of his fist.

Ryan followed, a little more slogged down. He didn’t know what to expect. He’d never met or even seen Shane’s parents. Walking in with expectations made this weird, but his natural instincts dictated that he already had a vision of them in his mind-

He was out of time.

The door opened, and Ryan saw her- Ms.Madej.

She was surprisingly tall. Ryan supposed it explained Shane’s height- Her hair was like his too. A dusty, wavy brown. She wore red, round glasses, and looked surprisingly young and hip, with her hair cut short, and grey yoga pants.

“Hey ‘ma.” Shane smiled, as she took a moment to pause before her face lit up.

“Shane- Ryan! So nice to see you- and meet you! Come here, boys!”

She immediately enveloped Shane in a hug. He laughed airily, returning the gesture. Sherry had the same hug as Shane did- the same tight grip, where she wrapped around you, hands then reaching up, along the top of his back.

Sherry broke away from her son to examine his face.

“You look so handsome, sweetie! Settling in okay? How was the ride?”

Shane just smiled to himself, shrugging, and Ryan- having seen Sherry Madej for the first time- already wished that he had a mother like that. Ryan’s mother was always working abroad.

“It's good, and yeah, nothing was bad about it… just… four hours in the car. Traffic wasn’t bad.”

“Good to hear!” She smiled blindingly. Turning to him, she added, tenderly, “And Ryan, come here, honey…”

Before Ryan even had the chance to question the name suddenly appointed to him, Sherry had him, too, wrapped up in a hug.

“It’s so grand to finally meet you, sweetie! Me and Mark have been counting the days-”

She released him, hands glued to his shoulders as she looked him up and down. “And you are even better-looking in person! Two handsome boys, the both of you!”

“Thanks- It’s, uh- It’s great to meet you!” He didn’t know what he was doing.

“Well, come in, come in!”

Ryan stepped in after Shane, a bit dazed, and a quite bit more unsure.

It was a quaint living space. Warm grey and cream walls that opened into a dining room, stepping down into a living room with glass sliding doors in the back. It was homely. Everything was clean and orderly, but it was warm and lively.

An older man, also enormous, blocked Ryan’s limited view of the rest of the house.

He looked less like Shane, Shane obviously carrying more from his mother than father, but one look at his warm smile and jawline revealed their startling resemblance.

“Hey, pop!” Shane beamed, and Ryan just stared in amazement. He was probably the shortest man to ever set foot in this household. A 5’10’’ height just didn’t compare.

After Shane and Mark shared a reunion hug, with some fatherly tousles and back-slapping, they pulled away. Shane really did look to enjoy his parent’s presence as much as he said he did. Ryan himself was more of an introverted child, and while he liked his family, there wasn’t that ‘family love’ that usually came with the equation.

“And Ryan!” Mark finally turned to him. He was growing old, but he looked to be one of those bulky granddads you might see at the gym, kicking ass because their age hadn’t quite caught up with them, and they weren't going to let it. “My boy!”

He gave him a hearty handshake and a half. Ryan felt his wrist creaking.

“It’s a pleasure to meet ya!”

“Likewise-” Ryan was cut off as a loud, screeching bark cried out through the vicinity.

“Roxie!” Shane grinned, and in a flash, a small, little dog shot out from the safety of a hallway, yipping happily, and rocketing between the legs of the much taller family members and right to Shane, who scooped him up in his arms without hesitation.

Ryan stared in amazement as the little dog started licking Shane’s face without remorse.

“You were always Roxie’s favorite… huh?” Sherry tutted, but she watched her son happily reunite with his dog.

“Hey, buddy!” Shane cried, as Roxie kept nuzzling Shane’s face, licking here and there, as though she were Shane’s second mother. The thought was heartwarming: a dog that was probably not even a foot long, much less tall, thought that the 6’4’’ behemoth that was Shane was her son.

Ryan couldn’t take his eyes off it. He would blame the cuteness of that little terrier if anybody asked, but the question that was really on his mind was what would it feel like to have Shane’s stubbly facial hair rubbing against your face like that. Not in a weird way but… he was a little curious.

“Here, Roxie!” Shane cooed, holding the dog in one hand like an idiot. “Meet my buddy Ryan!”

Shane held Roxie out to Ryan and Ryan reached out to carefully pet her. He was a little afraid of dogs- he preferred cats, but Roxie was small enough to hopefully be harmless. Besides, he was not about to let Shane embarrass him for having a sense of self-preservation, or fear in front of his parents.

To his surprise, Roxie just yipped happily at him, before licking his fingers. Ryan jumped a bit, but no one seemed to notice.

“Ryan- He’s kind of a moron, and is probably more afraid of you than you’re afraid of the mailman… But I know, Roxie, he’s pretty great.”

Ryan didn’t take Shane as the kind of guy who would sweet-talk his pets, but there it was before his eyes. He also didn’t peg Shane as a person who would openly complement Ryan in front of his dog, who was still licking his fingers like they were sausage links. Maybe Roxie could come to the next episode of Unsolved: Post Mortem, and she could devour all those stupid hot dog characters. It’d be a lot less work and worry for him.

Finally, Shane set Roxie down, who danced in circles at Ryan’s feet happily.

“Ryan also got you a nice gift,” Shane shrugged, making Ryan look up in surprise. He’d… done no such thing to his awareness.

Mark looked a little surprised, too, as Shane reached into the pocket of his jacket, and procured a small blue box with a red bow on top, situated with love and care.

Ryan froze for a moment. They had gone to Walmart… to buy a gift- when Shane already had one? They went in and bought extras? Not to mention, that little box looked to be velvet, and fancy as hell… why was Shane giving his father a nice gift in Ryan’s stead, while he gave him a ping pong set, instead of it being the other way around?

Why did they stop at that little Walmart at all if all Shane was going to do was buy extra shit for his sweet family and buy him some clothes?

“Oh!” Sherry suddenly exclaimed. “I should go check on the steaks- Shane, sweetie, would you mind taking Roxie for a walk? Ryan can go with you.”

She hurried off to a room next to the entry way, a nice rectangular kitchen, maintaining nice calm greys with accents of lavender in the pots and dining ware.

“Sure thing!” Shane smiled, hunkering way down to the floor to snag Roxie up in his arms again.

“You can just set the gifts on the dining table,” Mark smiled. “When you get back… My basketball game will be on- I hope you don’t mind.”

Ryan perked up at that. “Whose playing?”

“Golden State Warriors, my home team, and somebody who can suck my-”

“Mark!” Sherry cried, interrupting him. “You’re talking to the one and only Ryan Bergara, and our son!”

“... Yes, dear.”

“Warriors are a good choice,” Ryan admitted. “Not the Lakers but- still, a solid choice.”

“Right! You’re a Kobe fan, right? He’s a good player, real good. Lakers are chill fellas- way better than those Kings.”

Ryan sucked in a breath.

“Shane- is it okay if I just… trade my father for yours? Mr.Madej… He’s pretty fantastic.”

Shane just smiled, holding Roxie close to his chest. “I know he is.”

Mark just laughed. “You boys are darling- and please Ryan, Mark is fine. No need to feel formal- we’re family now.”

Ryan just sighed in content. His stay here wasn’t going to be bad at all. “Sure, Mark.”

“See? That’s better already.”

Ryan waved a little sign of goodbye as Shane clicked a pink leash onto Roxie, who also looked to be getting very old. “Here, I’ll show you around the best block ever, and we’ll go buy you a charger, sound good?”

“Sounds fantastic.”

And it did.

__________

There was a lot to take in at a place like this. Shane’s parents had everything within walking distance. A bar a couple streets down, which Shane claimed had the best amber beers he’d ever had. A school zone, with small kids running back and forth, chasing who knows what. Ryan would’ve put on his glasses to read the school sign, but Shane told him what it said before he had the chance.

Another Mexican restaurant around the block, and plenty of trees for a place in California. They looped back around. Shane promised to take him out for a beer that night, if he was feeling up to it, before they made it to the Seven-Eleven.

Roxie’s little legs paddled to keep up as best she could, which look so goofy and ridiculous next to her giant of an owner, Ryan had to keep biting back laughter when he glanced down at her.

Eventually, the Seven-Eleven came into view, looking remarkable similar to every other Seven-Eleven in America. Ryan swore that all Seven-Elevens were just portals to one building. Every store was the same, from Las Vegas to Boston. Despite that, they were one of the only stores Ryan could manage to lose himself in every time.

Shane walked towards the counter, where numerous neon chargers and iPhone straps were on a shelf- and fidget spinners that hadn’t sold in months. Go figure.

Ryan luckily found a charger to match his phone, and a new pair of earbuds. He felt bad for draining Shane of money, but he wouldn’t surrender until he got to listen to Feel Good Inc. again. A man needs his fix of Gorillaz. It’s just common sense.

Roxie was surprisingly well-behaved as Ryan confirmed that the charger would fit his iPhone, before they left again, inbound for Shane’s family home.

They chuckled all the way home about one thing or another. Ryan was laughing so much, and between the jabs and chatter, he forgot to ask about the little box that supposedly came from him.

On the way, he saw crows, lining the power lines. They didn’t make a sound, and Ryan was too busy listening to himself or Shane to pay them any mind, even if they had been croaking.

_____________

“Yeah! Go, Warriors!”

Mark cried, cheering from his spot on the couch.

Ryan would never admit it aloud, but he didn’t think he’d ever gotten so interested in a basketball game that didn’t concern the Lakers. The Warriors were actually winning, and Ryan was surprisingly really happy with that.

Sherry watched from her place in the kitchen, where smells of meat and roasted garlic hung in the air. A smile of affection played on her face as she watched them, her husband, son, and Ryan, all cheering at a TV over people even taller than them.

Ryan was surprised that even Shane seemed to care about the game. Shane was in no way a sports person but… there they were. Together, on a tiny sofa, screaming themselves hoarse.

Third quarter went in favor of the Warriors.

After a few minutes, Shane had relaxed into a posture in which his hands stretched over the back of the sofa, behind both him and Mark. There was something about Shane’s arms, being just behind him made him feel a little light headed.

Ryan tried not to think too hard about it when he started purposefully leaning back into those arms and the couch.

“Dinner, boys!” Sherry called, after a slight clatter of purple plates.

“Yes!” Shane cheered, getting up slowly as he retracted his arms.

Mark muted the TV, so they could check in with the game at a glance, before he, too, got up to leave.

Steaks and garlic roasted carrots awaited them in the kitchen, something better than anything Ryan’s father could whip up. Back in his childhood, he had a lot of microwaveable hot dogs and pasta.

What was splayed before him looked like a hundred-dollar meal, in his humble opinion. Warm and cozy, smelling delicious, Ryan was genuinely surprised that Shane would ever be used to this kind of treatment.

“Looks great, Ma.” Shane beamed as his mother handed him a loaded plate.

She nodded, humbly, before handing Ryan a plate as well. Somehow, she knew exactly how he wanted his steak, with some mashed potatoes on the side.

Shane’s mother had maternal instincts ablaze.

In mere moments, they had settled around the small, glass table. There was no thanks for the lord, which made Ryan smile. Most families did, and he always felt weird about it, not knowing what to do or say.

Bonus points- Sherry’s cooking tasted just as good as it smelled.

There was sparkling cider. Cranberry and apple flavored, apparently in waiting to go out to the blue moon bar place after dinner for the real alcohol. Maybe Mark or Sherry didn’t like drinking.

“Happy birthday to Mark!” Sherry toasted, raising her own glass of sparkling cider to the center of the table. “And welcome to Ryan!”

They all cheered quietly, Roxie barking from her place on the couch as if she could understand human speech. All of their glasses rang out together in the center, the vibration sending a slight chill up Ryan’s spine.

It was hard to pinpoint why exactly this exchange made him so jittery. Maybe it was the worry that he was intruding in on a family event. But somehow, he felt as if his glass didn’t connect with the others in the unison theirs did. Not that it mattered all that much- it was just a thought.

All of this was just in his head.

“Ryan, let me be the first to say it again…. we are so delighted to have you here.” Sherry smiled at him, before he had the chance to start digging into his steak.

“I’m delighted to have finally met the man of Shane’s dreams. It’s a pleasure.”

Shane choked on a carrot next to him. “Uh, Ma, I-“

“Shane, sweetie, why aren't you wearing your button? Did you lose it?”

“Ma… Ryan’s not my… not my…”

“Not your what?” Mark asked, confused.

Shane suddenly looked very red in the face as he dug around in his jean pocket.

“You’re dating him, aren't you?”

Ryan almost gagged.

Shane finally spoke up. “I’m- no… we aren't.”

There was a moment of silence, only penetrated by a small clicking sound. Ryan, surprised, looked to see Shane unhinging a worn button. He fastened it to his shirt without looking, clearly well-loved, but maybe put through the washer once or twice.

Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet… It was a textbook gay pride button.

“... W-What?” Ryan was beyond confused.

Sherry and Mark looked shell-shocked themselves.

“Oh-” Sherry huffed first. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry for assuming that.”

It took Ryan another moment to realize that Sherry was talking to him.

“What? Oh- No! It’s all good- I can see how you’d think that.” To be fair, it was plausible. But what had shocked him the most was that, in all the years Ryan had known Shane, he had never bothered to tell him that he was gay.

“Easy mistake to make,” Shane assured them, hoping to skip over the whole thing, looking down at his button and tracing it with his finger. “I… I just don’t feel comfortable wearing it at work. I don’t want to… run that risk, you know?”

Ryan flinched. He was somewhat running on autopilot, while his brain screeched to give him time to process the whole ordeal- but something about that statement pissed off Ryan to no end. Did Shane not trust him at all?

“Understandable,” Mark nodded, and signaled to everybody that they best gloss over the conversation for the rest of the dinner.

“Either way, Ryan- I’m sorry to throw you under… It’s just… Shane’s… well you know- you two were so close, and you know how he is. Girls never did a gosh darn thing for him.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Mark smiled at Shane, who was silently poking at a piece of garlic on his plate. “Because Shane’s my boy.”

Shane gave him a sideways glance, as if to send a warning to him, a stare that cried and pleaded ‘For all that is holy, for the love of God, please pretend that you knew about this- and we’ll talk later.’

Ryan grin and bore it. “He’s comfortable with himself, and I’m pretty proud of him for that,” He lied.

“Ryan… That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” And a part of Ryan hopes Shane meant it.

Which he did- partially.

“Ryan, Honey, we are so glad you think that. I know Shane sometimes has a hard time being vulnerable like that around other people, and me and Mark are so glad to have you here, even as a friend.”

“In other words, welcome to the family,” Mark said with a wink, and some steak in hand. “It means you’re never, ever, ever, ever, ever gettin’ rid of us.”

Ryan was probably getting a little ahead of himself, and if the revelation he’d just run into like a wall taught him one thing, it was that he had no idea what he was doing here.

That being said, Ryan rather liked the thought of staying there.

_________________

Ryan’s heart hammered in his chest, a mile a minute, as Mark Madej smiled into the little open velvet box.

Ryan still didn’t understand why Shane would buy a gift for his father on his behalf, but judging from Mark’s reaction… Shane gave the best gift he could, in place of Ryan, and giving the Walmart shit on his own behalf.

Ryan had no idea what was in the box, or why the box was even there, why it existed, but Shane, or Ryan, allegedly, had gotten Mark Madej a leather bound, triple-faced, elegant wristwatch.

Shane smiled at it, shrugging casually. “Ryan heard that your old one broke… and picked that one out a couple days ago. He was just going to send it with me, but here he could give it to you in person. Unlike me, he has a sense of style.”

Mark looked awestruck. “Ryan… It’s beautiful! Thank you so much- that looks even greater than my old one!”

Looking at Mark’s face, Ryan doesn’t believe he’s ever seen anybody get so wound up over a wristwatch. He genuinely looked like the happiest father on the planet.

“It’s nothing.” Ryan smiled. Shane was going to be the end of him.

“Come here, son!”

With that, Mark wrapped Ryan up in a hug. Ryan was forcefully reacquainted with the fact that he was minuscule compared to Shane’s entire family.

“Thanks… Mark.” He smiled, feeling almost as though he couldn’t breathe.

“You can call me ‘dad’ if you want, Ryan,” He offered- in weird fashion. “I know Shane already thinks of you like a brother.”

“You’ll always have a home here, Ryan,” Sherry added kindly.

Once Mark released him, Ryan noted that Shane was looking down at his shoes.

Mark and Sherry Madej were saints, but Ryan wasn’t sure if they were the saints he needed, or wanted. Either way, it certainly was something he didn’t deserve to have.

__________

Shane’s consciousness had already shut down out of nerves by the time his father was cutting open the ping pong box excitedly. He had no way of telling how Ryan felt about any of this. His family, how they ran things. He just kept a smile pasted on, and hoped that Ryan wasn’t regretting giving up his hotel tonight.

Still, somewhere along the line, Sherry had popped the pie into the oven, and he was handing Ryan a blue ping pong paddle to match his own. Sherry struggled with the little plastic net, ready for the battle of the century.

“I think these old dad arms will serve me well,” Mark threatened playfully casting a look at Shane.

“I think I have beginner's luck on my side,” He responded, shrugging over to Ryan, who’d already admitted to never having played ping pong before in his life.

“Really, now?” Sherry waggled a mom finger at the both of them.

“The older, the wiser.”

“The older, the slower,” Shane shot back, as Ryan observed in silence. He didn’t look uncomfortable per say, but he still felt his palms sweating a little knowing that he still didn’t feel good enough to bounce in on the banter.

Mark held a ping pong ball in his hand. “Elders verses the young’uns,” He challenged. “Battle of the generations.”

“Ready- and… go!”

Shane mindlessly used his reflexes to block the first couple of bounces. He was well-trained in the art of table tennis, ever since childhood. A couple strokes in, Ryan hit it for the first time, and Shane made out a little giggle of satisfaction under his breath. While it didn’t quite quell his nerves, it did give him hope. That maybe Ryan could learn to like being here, for however long he needed to.

Only then did he stop, a notion crossing his mind.

Would Ryan sleepover at his place tomorrow?

The plastic ball whizzed past him.

“Score!” Mark cheered happily.

“Sorry- That was on me!” Shane shook it off. If that’s what it came down to, Ryan would either accept or decline. He was worried about that decline part, or worse, Ryan would accept then regret it when he realized that Shane wasn’t awesome, or cool, or unafraid, or… put together- but was really a towering idiot.

“It’s all good, you big idiot.”

“That’s me,” He replied, chasing the plastic ball across the carpet.

“Now… let’s kick that old timer’s ass!”

“Shane!” Admonished Sherry.

_________

  
After a hard-fought battle of clattering ping pong balls against the little glass table that inevitably ended in Shane and Ryan’s defeat, came the ending.

Ryan couldn’t say he wasn’t laughing at the end- at how aggressive Shane got over a game like ping pong, and having played the game himself, he did want to play it again. Maybe against Shane, even if Shane had already told him that was a bad idea. Ryan didn’t care if he lost. There was something beyond satisfying about the sound of wood and hollow plastic, bouncing off something else, only to hear a returning thwack.

He’d helped take down the little nets, smiling to himself as Shane slapped him on the arm with a paddle. This beat any damn hotel. The Madejs were something else.

Now Ryan and Shane sat with Mark, crackling into chatter over the victory of the Warriors- who trumped their opponents in their game two minutes ago, as Sherry flicked the lights off in the kitchen.

She emerged out of the shadowy confines of the kitchen with a pie- two candles lit on top- 57- it proudly read. Mark smiled at Sherry meaningfully in that kind and beautiful way of any married couple.

“Happy birthday to you~”

Ryan almost jumped as Sherry started singing, Shane jumping in on cue immediately.

“Happy birthday to you…”

Ryan swallowed, as he timidly joined in. Shane was… actually pretty good at singing from what he was hearing- and Sherry had the voice of an angel.

“Happy birthday to Mark…”

Mark had the pie set before him. “Happy birthday to you!”

Mark blew out his candles with care- hesitating before doing so. If Mark was anything like Shane, he didn’t believe in ghosts, or wishes, but wished on things like that out of tradition anyways.

The lights flicked back on, and they all politely clapped for a moment, Sherry then moved over with a steel pie server, and started dishing up pie slices, cutting though the crumbling crust with expert precision.

Sherry smiled at him as the curling scent wafted over him.

“I hope you like cherries- I made the pie myself. Cherry cinnamon.”

Ryan almost flinched. Syrup appearing to clog his throat. Fake, fake love- fake everything. Cherries…

“I haven't tried them in a while,” He admitted.

“Well- rest assured- your new mother makes them the best.”

“You sure do, ma’,” Shane chipped in. “Thank you,” as he was served his slice.

There was something that added insult to injury about the whole thing. Shane Madej had brought him to his own home- his family- so filled with love. Only for Ryan to have this…

Yet, as he was handed his slice, he reflected that he hadn’t dared to try cherries in a long time.

Maybe things have changed, and he was ready for cherries- with the scent of cinnamon.

______________

As it turned out- the bitter-sweet taste of cherries on his lips, Ryan Bergara was half-dozing off, half-dreaming on a pillow smelling of cinnamon- enveloping him in everything he wished he had.

Under a blanket from Shane, a pillow from Shane, on the Madej’s couch. He could still hear the patterning of a ping-pong ball, could still almost taste the pie. He can almost feel the warm embrace of Mark and Sherry Madej.

The ghosts made him dread leaving. He didn’t want to leave behind all of this. The ghosts were full of dread, and attachment- and for once, he wished the ghosts would follow him.

He wanted to be there. Roxie kissing Shane’s face like there was no tomorrow. Sherry’s cooking- Mark’s love of the Warriors. There was something so special to him about it all- maybe it was just because they reached out in his time of need. But the Madej’s sure knew how to make one shitty day perfect- after getting dumped… and skipping work.

The thought hit him heavy in the face.

Work.

...

He was supposed to be in Pennsylvania today. Spending the night in a haunted asylum. Who knew how long it would be before he could book more tickets to Pennsylvania. And now he would have to change his plane tickets, because he wouldn’t be in Pennsylvania to board a flight to their next location.

“Ugh…”

The dawning realization that he’d fucked up let him know then and there that he wasn’t getting any more sleep then he would in Pennsylvania.

He wanted to go ask for a cup of tea- something with caffeine content. He wanted to ask for help- He wanted to ask a lot of things- but caffeine came first.

He would hate to disturb Shane or… his new parents.

He flinched to think of them in that way- it was laying it on a little thick. Though, he figured that they probably watched Buzzfeed Unsolved enough to keep up with their son’s work life… Ryan knew from personal experience that Shane got a little shy talking about himself. They might know him a lot better than they had let on… even if they had thought he was dating Shane.

Yeah… he could really go for some English Breakfast tea. Black, earl grey, anything.

He rolled off the couch. Unfortunately- the Madej's hospitality would probably go to waste. He wouldn't catch a wink of sleep that night, unless something miraculous happened.

He marched to the kitchen, Quietly- but with purpose. His tired feet slowed him, as he started opening cabinets as quietly as possible. Plates, cups- he snagged a white mug with a little painted turtle on it. Pots, appliances… come on…

He opened one cabinet, and found the jackpot of Tazo, Stash and Lipton labeled boxes. He found a box of English breakfast in the front, knowing that it was Shane’s favorite too… maybe he had even received it from his Mother and Father.

He snagged a tea bag, and quietly prayed that the sink wasn’t too loud. He turned on the warm water, stuck his mug underneath and threw in the tea bag.

If he left the tea bag in while he drank, it would fully steep, even if the water was only lukewarm. Placing the mug on the counter, he flicked the water off, hoping he didn’t wake anybody up in the nearby vicinity by stealing a teabag- he spotted a book on the counter.

He approached it curiously, barely making out the title in the dark.

“The Sun and Her Flowers.”

It was the book Shane had bought from Walmart that day- recommending it, and poetry as a whole, to him.

He glanced over to see his tea bag weakly seeping into the water. There’s a reason you boil the water first. He took the bag by the string, and plunged it in and out a few times to speed up the process before turning back to the book.

He flipped the book over so he could properly inspect the back of it- only to find his chest aching.

From Rupi Kaur, comes her long-awaited second collection of poetry. A vibrant and transcendent journey about growth and healing. Ancestry and honoring one’s roots. Expatriation and rising up to find a home within yourself. The Sun and Her Flowers is a journey of wilting, falling, rooting, rising, and blooming. A celebration of love in all its forms.  
  
this is the recipe of life  
said my mother  
as she held me in her arms as i wept   
think of those flowers you plant  
in the garden each year   
they will teach you  
that people too  
must wilt  
fall  
root  
rise  
in order to bloom-

“Ryan?”

The sound of a voice to his right made him yelp aloud, only to come face to face with Shane Madej, in his boxers and a baggy T-Shirt. Unshaven legs on full display, glasses not on quite right. Flicks of hair stood up straight, and careened off to the side triumphantly.

He tapped on the light to the kitchen, causing Ryan to flinch for a moment as he adjusted to the light.

“Ryan… is everything all good?”

Ryan stare at him. Shane seemed so real in that moment. Ruffled, not ready for interaction- but there to provide anyways.

“Why are you up?” Ryan croaks, guiltily staring at his cold cup of tea.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Ryan figured he may as well admit. “I was… feeling kinda guilty… and I needed some caffeine. I thought everybody else was asleep. Sorry for stealing, man.”

Shane just waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t give a shit… What’s got you feeling upset?”

“I… Just the stress of it all? I don’t know.”

Shane looked a little helpless. Stepping closer, he frowned. “Ryan… just know that I’m like… one room away, you know? If you need anything I’m right there.”

Ryan nodded, sorrow choking his words. “Everything is just… too much to handle I think?”

“Ryan…” Shane was right in front of him, looking saddened. He opened his arms, as a cue. Ryan gave in.

There was a flicker of thought in Ryan’s mind. A question of ‘how did I get here?’ as Shane’s arms wrapped around him. Embracing him again. Clutching tightly, he felt stubble brushing against his forehead, and where Ryan’s chin didn’t rest on Shane’s shoulder… he buried his face in his chest.

Ryan seized the back of Shane’s baggy nightshirt in needy fists. Something- some desperation came over him as Shane held him.

“Are you going to cry again?” Shane asked quietly- and there was something in his voice that betrayed his true intentions of “dear lord please don’t cry again.”

Ryan took a moment, smelling the cinnamon that clung to Shane, like the cherry pie, baked with love.

“I’m… alright. Thanks.”

“You sure?”

And it was at that moment that Ryan felt it. Shane, petting his hair slowly. Fingers running through his hair in the back- timidly, faint- but there nonetheless.

He held onto Shane a little tighter. “Yeah… I’m positive.”

And like a true friend, a true gentleman, like Shane, he let Ryan stay. He let Ryan hold fast to whatever he needed. He heard the lonely crying of crows in the distant sky- even though they should be asleep- so should they.

There was a rhythm to it- a tangible rhythm of Shane’s fingers, of the rocking back and forth that Ryan gradually started.

They stayed, just like that. Away from cameras, other people, away from reality, judgment… Together as partners in crime. And that was all the help Ryan would dare ask of Shane. The only cup of tea he should need.

______

TO: Helen

Ryan: You’ll never guess where I’m spending MY night

Ryan: At Shane’s.

Ryan: I met his family, and they made me feel more welcome than your ass ever   
did.

Ryan: Maybe he IS better than you

Helen: Fuck you Ryan Bergara. Typical of you- feeling so threatened that you immediately go sleep with your best friend when I dump you

Helen: You are pathetic

Ryan: Shane doesn’t need to have sex with me to make me feel good- unlike you.

Helen: Have fun being financially fucked. The bank account is mine...

Helen: You and your betraying ass can have fun. I’ve already thought about burning half of your shit- so don’t come crying to me in the morning.

Helen: Fuck you.

(Enter a message... )

__________

He was officially sobbing.

Ryan didn’t know what to do- where to go. He didn’t know how to ask for help, where to ask for help. His life savings were fucked- all of his belongings were down the drain. He’d made an enemy of Helen. In his position, it was the worst enemy to have.

He stared down into his tea, still steeping, many minutes later. He didn’t know if he could even swallow help at the moment. How could he? The one person he’d really trusted had just left him to rot- with the only other person he trusted.

It wouldn’t get better. It couldn’t. He was fucked, so screwed. Fuck Helen, fuck Shane. Fuck this perfect family that he doesn’t have. Fuck the home that he had lost. Fuck his lack of money, fuck the absence of any of his belongings. All of them.

He couldn’t believe it. He was only just starting to comprehend what this really meant for him, and he was only one night into the ordeal.

He felt a tremor shake up his spine.

He seized the pillow that lay next to him, one smelling of cinnamon. Perfection- happiness. Ryan clung to that joy as best as he could- but no cherry cinnamon pie would ever be for him. No love that wasn’t fake- no spices of home to be found anywhere that still belonged to him.

He felt the tears dripping off his face now. Hiccupping, and shaking head to toe. He took his phone, clutching it, and without thinking, threw it across the room.

It hit the fireplace face-first, with a resounding crack.

Billowing with rage, and realizing that it had been a counter-intuitive thing to do, Ryan buried his face into the pillow and continued to sob uncontrollably.

His phone lay on the floor, screen open to Helen's chat, his relationship. Shattered.

He didn’t need her anyway. He didn’t need anybody.

There was a ton of force, pressing down on his chest, his heart thumping at half its normal speed. Unable to discern right from wrong when Ryan heard another voice.

“Ryan?”

He didn’t bother to look up. A part of his brain wishing that is he didn’t respond- they would go away.

‘Please… just leave… leave now before I start caring about you.’

There was a moment’s pause in witch Shane waited for a response of any kind, only to be met with the grim silence.

After a pause, Ryan heard shuffling, and felt the couch beside him compress down next to him. Shane against his side.

“Ryan… buddy.”

Ryan felt Shane’s hand rest on his back, waiting for resistance, only to find there was none, and tracing small circles there with his fingertips.

Ryan exhaled quickly- it tickled, and he was in hysterics currently. What difference did it make?

Ryan still didn’t look up. He couldn’t bear to see Shane. To see Shane see him like this. He wanted to run away. He couldn’t handle this at the moment- everything was too much. There was too much of everything here.

“You know…” Shane said. “I honestly get it. When Sara dumped me… when I came out to her… it wasn’t the same.”

Ryan hiccupped into the pillow. He wanted to see Shane, look at him, hold onto him again, but all he would let himself have was the little circles, traced into his back with shy fingers.

Shane waited for a moment, for a response he never got- before deciding that he’d better just start talking. “And I know… that without Helen… things aren't going to be the same. I know that- and that’s hard.”

It was frustrating, more than anything.

“I know it’s not going to be the same- but you have to accept that it’s not going to be. It’s not going to be the same, but that doesn’t mean it has to be bad, you feel me? Picking up what I’m putting down?”

Ryan just nodded. It wasn’t going to be the same.

“Ryan- you have a whole network of people behind you. You only lost one part of that web. I’m still here, you’ve still got your job… we can do this.”

He tried to grab control of his airflow, with minimal success.

“Helen is a fucking idiot to leave you- and if you even think for one second that you can’t do better than somebody who goes off to abandon you for no good reason- you have another thing coming, man.”

He can hear it. An optimistic hope. A ray of light in the darkness.

“Like, I get it… It’s a huge part of your life gone, but you have to know that you are aren’t just Helen- you get me?”

Ryan sucked in a breath of contemplation. Overwhelming was maybe the word for it. He didn’t even know if he could stomach any of his shitty fear at the moment.

“Hey… can you look at me at least?”

Ryan looked up, obliging, Fingers clutching, to everything he didn’t have. The rhythmic circles traced on his back were doing very little to help him.

“Hey, man… Sorry if coming here was weird after everything. I really appreciate you showing up. You’re a trooper, Ryan, you really are. I promise you.”

There was something about that promise that struck a chord with him. He started up again, crying, sucking in uneven breaths, gasping for air like he was grasping for love. Of all the times his regrets and long-buried longings to arise, now?

“I hope you know that you’re always welcome here.”

Ryan just nodded. He knew he was. He knew all too well, that cherries and love would be shoved down his throat every time he set foot in this house. He was still bitter about it in a way that he shouldn’t be.

“You need another hug?” Shane asked, and Ryan felt guilty for forcing Shane to include him in that kind of physical contact. Something Shane wasn’t as fond of as him.

Ryan just shifted over into the grip. Giving up all hope of composure and refinement. His pride had died that morning, and this was just salt... or cinnamon, in the wound.

He can’t take his mind off of it. How lonely he feels, how lost and afraid. What was happening to him? Yet amongst the pain- the result of the vulnerability was Shane. Glasses on, trying to see Ryan and his problems for what they were, a for help like he had asked for caffeine.

Vulnerability was for the weary.


	3. Love Bites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is late. I'm sorry. It's bad? I'm sorry it happens I'm busy writing my own books, and school and the like, but I hope you enjoyed. happy easter

 

Shane served him up a leftover slice of pie with a smile, adding a mug of black coffee next to it.

“Are you sure about this?”

Ryan shrugged. It was probably the dumbest idea he had made in a long time, but his world seemed full of bad ideas as of late, and he couldn’t worry himself over one more. “Yeah. If we drive to our next two locations, we can still get all the episodes filmed on schedule. We’ll have to film it ourselves, but…”

 “It’ll be fine,” Shane said. “Lemme see how long that road trip would be.”

 He pulled his phone out and sat in the chair next to Ryan with his own mug of tea, opening Google Maps and calculating their route. 

Something about the short distance between them made it harder for Ryan to eat his breakfast, no matter how sweet it was and how much he had longed for it. He managed a couple hesitant mouthfuls, trying to enjoy the pie as much as he could. He thought to himself that he did like cherries, he liked them plenty. A childhood of fake flavoring had ruined him. Shane had made his coffee, and it was exactly the way he liked it: Black, with a splash of milk and a little bit of sugar.  

Shane, himself, was whisking a spoon around in his tea aimlessly as he read off his phone.

 “It’ll probably take about three days to get there… That’s a long while, Ryan.”

“Less time than I thought it would be,” He shrugged. “From here to Pennsylvania? That’s not bad.”

 “Still, are you sure you don’t just want to book a new flight and wait five days? It’s much easier. We’ll have to reschedule the rest of the trip, but-”

 “I’m up for a three-day adventure if you are,” Ryan said. “Again, only if you are. It’s your car, and you’re the one who’s gonna have to deal with me for three straight days.”

 “I deal with you for days on end anyhow.” Shane shrugged, sipping at his tea, even though it was still steaming. Shane had a cast-iron tongue when it came to holding down the heat. “What’s the difference?”  
  
“Really?”

 “Why the hell not?”

 

“Thank you!” Ryan chirped.

 

Leaning forward and adjusting himself so that he could rest against the back of his chair

 

 

properly, Shane slid his phone into his pocket. “So, then…. If that’s the plan, how long ‘till we leave?”

 

Ryan took another bite of his cherry pie, savoring the perfection of it. “As soon as possible? Up to you.”

“I mean, I’m still all packed, so we can leave as soon as you finish that,” Shane offered.

 

“Sweet,’ Ryan mumbled. He didn’t plan on rushing himself, and certainly not through one of the best damn breakfasts he’d ever had. “Thank you, Shane.”

 

“Of course. What was I gonna do? Leave you hanging?”

 

“You really are an asshole.”

 

“Hey!”

 

Suddenly, Sherry emerged from the kitchen, eyes wide and tired, cradling a mug of her own in her hands. “You boys are so cute… Sounds like you’re leaving us?” She looked disappointed, a wistful smile crossing her face slowly.

 

“Sorry, mom.” The words choked up in Ryan’s throat and left before he could snatch them back.  

 

Shane looked at him, taken by surprise, and Sherry smiled warmly.

 

“Oh, Sweetie,“ Sherry replied after a moment. “You’ve got things to do.”

 

“I know…”

 

“We were so lucky to have you come visit us.” Apparently swept up in emotion, she gestured for Ryan and Shane to stand, her arms opening. As they approached, she grumbled, “Come here you two…”

  
In a matter of moments, Shane and Ryan were caught up in her embrace, in the calloused bear hug of an overprotective mother. Ryan felt the heat and color in his face, hidden in their sleeves as Shane and Sherry wrapped around him and each other. Mrs. Madej had just been too good to be true.

 

In a way, there was a lot about the Madej family that was too good to be true.

 

Her teabag dangled on the outside of her mug, bouncing on the outside of it when she finally released them, before being pinned to the side of her cup by her index finger. As they gathered their bags, she retreated to the kitchen, reappearing just before they opened the front door with a plate covered with plastic wrap. Beneath it rested the remainders of the cherry pie.Ryan looked,

 

 

momentarily, as though he was going to refuse it, but Sherry waved his politeness aside briskly.

 

“Don’t you worry, boys. There’s more where that came from.”

 

_______

 

They had been on the road for an hour and a half, and Ryan was starting to regret his decision of driving very quickly. They were only an hour and a half into their three-day drive, but it was quickly taking its toll on him. Shane had caught on to his irritability, and, as they stopped at a light, he took a stab at casual conversation from his station in the passenger seat.

 

“Hey, man. Are you all good?”

Ryan nodded sharply. “Yeah. I guess I just wasn’t thinking too hard about how long 30 hours is, you know?”

“I mean… Yeah. A spontaneous 30-hour drive is kinda extreme…”

“I’m sorry.”

Shane looked alarmed but didn’t look directly at him, his eyes focused on the hundreds of other drivers as they flew by, moving past, moving on. “Don’t be sorry. We have to get there somehow… It’s bonding! Or… It’s an adventure!”

Ryan smirked. “You sound like your mother.” 

“Proudly,” Shane responded.

 There was another moment of silence as they sat at the light before Shane shifted again.

 “Better take this off…” He mumbled to himself, making a move to remove his well-loved pride button.

Without even thinking twice, Ryan’s hand flashed out, and cupped around Shane’s hand on his chest, over his heart, and the button. Adrenaline shot through him. His words didn’t follow as quickly. He tried to think as swiftly as he was moving- but despite his efforts, there was a slight pause before Ryan found the words.

“I… You should wear it.”

Shane stared at him.

“I mean… I want you to keep it on. Nobody’s going to be mad when they hear… I want you to wear it in the episode, too. Like… I don’t know. It’s really strange for me…"

Ryan’s words and fingers faltered. He could feel the ghosting beat of Shane’s heart in his chest, alive, and hear his out pounding in his ears, in time. He hadn’t even noticed that the light had changed from red to green- the car behind him chirped, and it raised his head as he shifted his eyes back to the road.

 The silence didn’t last long.

 “Why didn’t you say anything?” Ryan asked. He wasn’t going to try to change the tone of hurt in his voice. It was there for a reason.

 Shane looked ashamed, peering out the window for a moment before turning back to him. “I just… I didn’t know what you’d think.”

 "Why would it matter?”

 Shane’s gaze dropped.

 “I care a lot more than you think I do- and it was a lot harder than you think it was.”

 “So you kept your mouth shut and planned to never tell me until your mother did for you?What the fuck?”

 “I didn’t want to mislead you- I was just worried that it might make things weird. Or- or maybe you’d see me different- I dunno.”

 “You're one redeeming factor- and the biggest pet peeve of mine- is how you don’t give a shit.”

 Shane’s mouth shot open, and without words to form, he sunk back. He felt something hot and sharp prick at him. Without meaning to-

 “And you totally don’t understand- Are you crying?” Ryan could hear his voice pick up in fear at the end of the question as he turned from the road to Shane, then to the road again. He was afraid of the answer he might get.

 Shane was staring down, looking as if a crack in his composure was on the near horizon.

 “... No,” He forced out thickly. “I’m sorry. What do you want me to say?”

 Ryan sighed, staring intently in front of him. “I-... I don’t know. Just… you never have to hide anything from me, like that, ever again, okay?”

 He spared Shane another glance and slumped, his shoulders stout as he formed his next words, his eyes directly towards his button.

 

 ...

 

“So… keep it on for me?”

 

Shane nodded.

 

____________

 

“Who the fuck?”

 

It’s been five hours on the road. They’d stopped at a convenience store to pick up snacks to keep them going through the day, but it was four already, and Ryan was ready for food that wasn’t pretzels, goldfish, or pop-tarts. Unfortunately, the store wasn’t selling popcorn, which was much more substantial. He moodily scrolled through the Buzzfeed: UnsolvedFacebook page. Next to him in the driver’s seat, Shane hummed to the song that was playing on the radio.

 

“What is it?” He asked, interestedly.

 

“This comment… I… what are parents doing to their children?”

 

“Lemme see… One sec,” Shane said, checking behind him, before peering down at Ryan’s phone. He couldn’t read it in it’s entirety, but he’d caught enough of it to get the gist of it.

 

[HAY RYAN! IAM BIGGEST BIG FAN. I IZ 12 ANSI LUV ALL UR VIDEEEO'S. YOUR SOO COOL ANS HIT ANS WOOD YHU MARRY MEH IPH I WASN'T 12? LUV LUV ]

 

Trying to still focus on the road, but dying a little on the inside, Shane howled. “What the fuck? I- WHY?! Who-?!” He was laughing too hard to choke the rest of the words out.

 

“It’s just…” Ryan forced out through a fit of laughter. “It’s just, like… like grammar is optional. Spell Check has its limits.”

 

“'Spell check has its limits’?!” Shane echoed, before laughing even more.

 

“If that were my kid… and I saw them writing a comment like that… I think I would bash their head in with the keyboard.”

 

Shane kept laughing. “Good to know that your kids would actually contribute to society.”

 

Ryan smiles. “I’d be an awesome father; don’t you dare tell me otherwise.”

 

Shane collected himself for a moment, still huffing with laughter.

 

“I think you’d be a great dad, yeah.” He agreed.

 

 

 

Ryan would probably be a cool dad. Something told Shane that Ryan would be a wonder with kids. He had the playfulness and patience in his personality to make it work. There was something about the thought of Ryan carrying a small child in his arms, or climbing a tree with a child that made Shane feel a little bit shaky.

 

It wasn’t a thought he wanted to let go of. Shane’s creed was head over heart, but there’s just something about Ryan that makes it turn around.

 

He could imagine Ryan, hunched over the morning paper, only skimming the headlines before skipping to the horoscopes, a cup of coffee in hand while a sleepy daughter tugged at his shirt to get his dreary attention. Something about his steady hands gave Shane the impression that Ryan would be able to guide a child neatly. He was slapped with the mental image of Ryan reading to small children.

 

“I think you’d be a better dad then me, though,” Ryan offered, pulling Shane abruptly out of whatever fantasy was bouncing around in his mind.

 

One fast look down at the steering wheel and Shane realized he was shaking.

 

“I-...”

 

Shane swallowed- the next thought to pierce his mind was mountains compared to the last. Him, as a father. With Ryan.

 

Ryan, with a ring that matched his- A house that smelled of cinnamon and coffee, tea, and notebook paper. Shane’s heart was pounding in his throat. He couldn’t breathe around it. He got a physical shiver up his spine, his mind reeling as he entertained the idea. Ryan’s soft giggle as they raised a son or daughter. He could just imagine it. A boy- their child, coming into their bedroom at night, and all of them sleeping together to ward off nightmares. Their daughter, winning a medal in elementary school athletics and proudly showing it off to them. Shane would scoop her up in his arms and congratulate her, Ryan’s arm around the back of his waist as they smiled at her warmly.

 

He wondered- not for the first time- what kissing Ryan might be like. Would he turn to mush under him, or would it be Shane who lost all the strength in his knees?

 

He could almost image Ryan, smiling against his lips. Not really kissing, just lingering there…

 

Ryan’s softs hands holding his. Holding him close. Shane already knew that holding Ryan would be wondrous. He could hold all of him, every inch of Ryan he could reach. He could see Ryan making the worst dad jokes ever. Something cheesy, with a wink over a quaint dinner table. He could imagine- everything. There was something about the thought of a child calling him ‘Dad’

 

 

and Ryan ‘Papa’ that made his stomach churn, and his head feel like it was a hundred miles above where it was. That would entail, however, Ryan and Shane getting married. Flicking appreciatively into this next train of thought, he conjured up the image of Ryan in a suit, properly dressed, for once, as his dark eyes lit up. Ryan, his future husband.

 

In the car next to him, Ryan glanced from the road to Shane, and, registering the glazed look in his eye, he snapped to. “Shane… Are you- Shane, watch out!”

 

Shane slams on the brakes instinctually, shoving his car to the side and narrowly avoiding the driver in the lane beside his own as they crossed in front of him.

 

“Pull over,” Ryan commanded firmly.

 

Shane, his heart racing, obeyed.

 

He flicked on his signal and allowed some disgruntled drivers to pass around him, before pulling onto the side of the road and punching in his hazards.

 

Shane took a moment to catch his breath. Ryan exhaled sharply beside him, and Shane stared, wide-eyed at the dashboard. Fear and shock finally settled in.

 

“You… we… We almost died there, man! Jeez, what was that guy thinking?!” Shane cried, banging his trembling fists down on the steering wheel with vigor.

 

“Are you okay?” Ryan said, looking at him worriedly. “You were looking really off-put all the sudden. You’re- You’re shaking.”

 

Shane took another moment to look down at his hands, vibrating fervently on the wheel. Maybe this was just a dream. Wouldn’t he be lucky? He’d be able to wake up and blame all his problems on his heart and his subconscious. But the logical part of his brain was buzzing, telling him this had been a long time coming.

 

“I… I don’t know,” He lied. He felt so dizzy all the sudden. He should be a little more focused on the fact that he had nearly crashed, but somehow that seemed like a minor, minute detail compared to the feeling in his chest that could only be described as Ryan.

 

“Shane, you’ve barely eaten anything all day, and you’ve still been driving for, like, seven hours. I’ll drive, and we’ll stop at the next restaurant there is. You haven't eaten anything besides a slice of pie and a couple of pretzels… Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

Shane opened his mouth, to admit that hunger wasn’t even anything he had been considering before it hit him. He was too nervous to eat very much around Ryan without being told to do so.

 

 

 

“I guess I was just thinking too much,” Shane said resolutely.

 

Leaning forward as he unbuckled, Ryan shot him another concerned look. “Next time, please be a little more careful?”

 

“I will,” Shane promised.

 

“Let’s get you some food, then,” Ryan said, handing over a bag of pretzels. “Eat something before we find a place with some real food… hopefully somewhere where you can get yourself a good dose of caffeinated tea.”

Shane sighed. He’d need a lot more than just tea-

 

“Sounds perfect.”

 

_______

 

Three days felt like three hours with Ryan Bergara.

 

Once Shane had found his aux cord buried somewhere in the center console of his car, Ryan had quickly connected his phone. In a matter of minutes, they had a soundtrack to their trip, and there was nothing around them that couldn’t be funnier than it was.

 

There was no need to talk about hardship. It was an escape. Ryan was running away- from work, his worries, his troubles, stress, everything. He didn’t need it anymore, and to mark as much, he was traveling thousands of miles with Shane by his side. Restaurant to restaurant. They didn’t bother booking a hotel. Ryan claimed it would be unfair to Shane, to owe him so much money. Shane fine sleeping in the car and Ryan could as well. So every two hours on the road, they switched places, and they drove all throughout the night.

 

Shane had the added luxury of being able to glance over to the passenger side seat and examine Ryan as he curled in on himself, breathing peacefully and evenly. He had flipped the night-time music to be a mix of Beethoven and Edvard Grieg. It was a little dark and moody, but still, something that would be easier to fall asleep to.

 

Besides that, there was something just funny to Shane about watching Ryan sleep peacefully in a car at four in the morning to the tune of ‘In The Hall Of the Mountain King’.

 

Still, it was three days to process and over-analyze every little thing Ryan did- and every little thing that Shane had done in response.

 

Ryan was stubborn, and he had refused to ask for help unless it was offered to him first. The way his nose would wrinkle when he complained, or soften when he found something sad was, somehow, endearing. Ryan chewed his lips a lot. God, he chewed them until they bled. Shane

 

 

had already known that about Ryan, but imaging those lips, as coarse and chapped as they were, against his own lips, plush in comparison, made his head spin.

 

Shane Madej had it in badly for Ryan Bergara, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

 

____________

 

“Oh, shit…”

 

Ryan looked over at him from his place behind the wheel. It was too early to be awake by any means, but Shane knew he wouldn’t sleep much more than he already had.

 

“What is it?”

 

Shane shifted over a little bit to lay on the window. He’d been feeling nauseous for a while. “Fuck… I’m feeling a little carsick.”

 

“Should we stop soon?”

 

Shane frowned. “I’m just… Lightheadedness, nausea… Maybe- if I still feel like shit in an hour.”

 

“Do you get car sick often?” Ryan’s voice was airy, light.

 

Shane nodded, staring out the window. “Yeah, it’s happened before.”

 

“Well… Okay, is there anything I can do?”

 

Shane just groaned. “Not a whole lot, man.”

 

“Would sleeping help?” Ryan asked. “I’ll be quiet and turn off the music if that’s what you need.”

 

“I don’t think my brain would shut off, even if I wanted it to.”

 

Ryan tapped the wheel with his index finger. “Well- shoot. I don’t know what to do about that.”

“I think I’m gonna read a little.”

 

Nothing like some good old Rupi Kaur to put Shane in a goddamn coma.

 

Ryan frowned at the road in front of him. “Wouldn’t that make it worse? Looking at something inside the car? That’s the science of it, right?”

 

“I mean- unless you want to read to me,you bozo, lemme read my book.”

 

 

 

“Hold up.”

 

Shane perked to attention as Ryan turned on the turn signal. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Well, it’s my fault that we’re even in this car in the first place, so… there’s that.”

 

“Are you- Ryan…” Shane’s voice picked up a warning tone.

 

“Hey, you pitched poetry to me. So, let’s read some- so you can pass out and feel better, and I can take a break for a minute.” Without any further complaints, Ryan swerved into the parking lot of a McDonalds.

 

The car rumbled to a stop, and Ryan’s keys jingled as he pulled them loose. Shane leaned back into his chair with a huff.

 

“Okay there, buckaroo,” Ryan said, with a smile. “Hand me that book, and let’s see what you got.”

 

“I’m in hell right now,” Shane groaned.

 

Ryan pulled the receipt out of the book that marked where his page was after opening it to the correct section.Settling in a little bit, himself. Shane closed his eyes-

 

“Our souls are mirrors.”

 

Then he cringed.

 

“God must have kneaded you and I from the same dough, rolled us out as one onto the baking sheet, must have suddenly realized how unfair it was, to put that much magic into one person, and sadly split that dough in two. How else is it that, when I look in the mirror, I am looking at you? When you breathe, my own lungs fill with air- that we just met but we have known each other our whole lives, if we were made as one to begin with.”

 

Shane can already feel his grasp on reality slipping from him, and he drowns in his soothing voice and cliched, beautiful poems.

 

“You would be a good dad,” He muttered to Ryan in his delirium. And he meant every ounce of it. His head swam with blurring visions of Ryan and himself, married, with children baking cookies for the holidays. Everything was a mess, but nobody really cared between the laughter, smiles and domestic cozy feeling of family.

 

“The Sun and her Flowers.”

 

 

 

Ryan didn’t respond to him. Shane wondered if he had even heard him.

 

“What is it with you and the sunflowers, he asks. I point to the field of Yellow outside. Sunflowers worship the sun, I tell him. Only when it arrives do they rise. When the sun leaves they bow their head in mourning. That is what the sun does to those flowers. It’s what you do to me.”

 

Ryan looked over, emotion bubbling in his eyes- to find Shane, already asleep.

 

A tiny pencil marking caught his eye. Flipping back some pages, he found other poems to be completely surrounded by pencil marking. Notations- like he was still an English student.

 

Shane had no reason to make annotations, but there they were, extracting all the meaning crammed into the poems there could possibly be. Deconstructing every sentence into five meanings. Analyzing, then over-analyzing.

 

He skimmed through the notes, Shane’s meticulous handwriting, sprawled on the outskirts of the short, neat stanzas. In spots, they were tedious and clumped. Ryan stopped as he found some notations on a poem even denser than the ones before and after.

 

“What love looks like”.

 

Around the penciling, Ryan read the poem.

 

The very first sentences jabbed out at him.

 

_______

 

What does love look like the therapist asks.

One week after the breakup

I’m not sure how to answer her question

Except for the fact that i thought love

Looked so much like you

 

That’s when it hit me

And i realised how naive i had been

To place an idea so beautiful on the image of a person

As if anybody on this entire earth

Could encompass all love represented

As if the emotion seven billion people tremble for

Would look like a five foot eleven medium-sized brown-skinned guy

Who likes eating frozen pizza for breakfast.

 

What does love look like the therapist asks again

 

 

This time interrupting my thoughts mid sentence.

And at this point i’m about to get up

And walk right out the door

Except i paid far too much money for this hour

So instead i take a piercing look at her

The way you look at someone

When you’re about to hand it to them

Lips pursed tightly preparing to launch into conversation

Eyes digging deeply into theirs

Searching for all the weak spots

They have them hidden somewhere

Hair being tucked behind the ears as if you can physically prepare for a conversation about philosophies rather than disappointments

Of what love looks like

 

Well i tell her

I don’t think love is him anymore

If love was him

He would be here wouldn’t he

If he was the one for me, he’d be the one sitting across from me

If love was him it would have been simple

I don’t think i love him anymore i repeat

I think love never was

I think i just wanted something

Was ready to give myself something

I believed i was bigger than myself

And when i saw someone

Who could probably fit that part

I made it very much my intention

To make him my counterpart

 

__________

 

‘I don’t think I love her anymore’ he whispers, barely there in the universe of noise, and successes and failures, his eyes trace the words of ‘disappointments of what love looks like’ while his heart traces the lines of ‘if love was him, it would have been simple.’

 

_________

 

And i lost myself to him

He took and he took

Wrapped me in the word special until i was so convinced that he only had eyes to see me

Hands only to feel me

 

 

A body only to be with me

Oh how he emptied me.

 

How does that make you feel

Interrupts the therapist

Well i said

It kind of makes me feel like shit

 

_______

 

Ryan took a moment to pull his soggy, tired eyes off the paper. Like he couldn’t bear to read it.

 

Sleeping soundly next to him was Shane, softly breathing. It the only noise he could hear beyond the pumping blood of his ears. This poem made him so ridiculously upset. So frustrated, so bitter. It was everything he wanted, everything this woman wanted- out of reach and cheating them. Breaking the one thing they had ever shared: the trust of another person.

 

Was love really meant to be simple?

 

Ryan hiccupped, only to find that his eyelashes were damp, collecting the dew of his tears as he read. He fingered the notes around the poem. Shane couldn’t possibly understand this kind of emotion. He was more like the man who had left for somebody else.

 

How it made him feel…

 

_______

 

Maybe we’re all looking at it wrong

We think it’s something to search for out there

Something meant to crash into us

On our way out of an elevator

Or slip into our chair at a cafe somewhere

Appear at the end of an isle at the bookstore

Looking the right amount sexy and intellectual

But i think love starts here

Everything else is just desire and projection

Of our wants needs and fantasies

But those externalities could never work out

If we didn’t turn inward and learn how to love ourselves in order to love other people

 

Love does not look like a person

Love is our actions

Love is giving all we can

 

 

Even if it’s just a bigger slice of cake

Love is understanding

We have the power to hurt one another

But we are going to do everything in our power

To make sure we don’t

Love is figuring out all the kind sweetness we deserve

And when someone shows up saying they will provide it as you do

But their actions seem to break you

Rather then build you

Love is knowing whom to choose

 

__________

 

Ryan cried quietly into his hands. Not a lot, and not loud at all- but just enough to warn himself that this had connected with him more than it should.

 

Love is who you chose.

 

There was only one person in this whole world- one family who gave that kind of love. Actions, giving, understanding, and Ryan wasn’t sure he was ready for that kind of love. It made him sick to his stomach.

 

As he scrubbed the tears away from his eyes he felt his phone begin to vibrate.He sucked in a breath, tried to steady his voice, before retrieving it with a shaking hand. Hopefully, Shane would be sleeping for a while. He looked down, holding his breath.

 

Helen was calling.

 

His thumb hovered over the receive button. He wanted to reclaim his past. He wanted to go back to the love he had. He wasn’t ready for anything new- he wasn’t ready to know what love really meant to him. But his screen was cracked and broken, and he knew that wasn’t the whole story. Things with Helen weren't simple.

 

Maybe Ryan was ready to take a chance on somebody who could make things simple.

 

He pressed the decline button.

 

He let his phone drop out of his hand, to the floor again, as he looked back down at the book. The notations looked familiar. Reassuring.

 

There is always something to lose, but sometimes it isn’t as bad as we hope

Uncertainty is a part of moving on

Love cannot be contained

 

 

Love is a person- loving people- loving everything about them

 

Love makes people fools

love is beauty, but beauty isn’t love. It’s easy to confuse the two

Love is something shared. Between every person, mountain and cliff

It makes us quake

Love

Tremble in fear and emotion

Imperfect love is all love, and no love

If it’s imperfect it’s love, but if you view it as imperfect it isn’t

 

Sometimes we forget where love has gotten us, losing sight of perspective because of love

Love costs a lot, you must pay a price for love, because that’s what love is.

A give and take

 

Ryan couldn’t take his eyes off it for a moment. Almost a poem in itself. Shane grabbed this abstract concept of love, and held onto it tight and fast.

 

Shane could grasp love better than Ryan ever could. He was floored just reading the hastily scribbled notes on the sides of the paper.

 

Love isn’t one person. Love is two

It’s sometimes hard to tell what is love

What is affection

And what is coping with a lack of the two

But it is important that you find a perfect love

Because only that can satisfy those

Sometimes we feel we must understand ourselves

Before we understand others

But really, it is other people who help us understand ourselves

Love can give us strength, but it also shows that weakness.

We must find people with the complimentary to truly be free

 

Love is always in your grasp

And always in your control

You just have to make the right calls

 

Ryan shut the book, tears still hanging from his eyelids. Something new was dawning over him, and everybody. And he would greet it. It was just the right call to make.

 

______

 

Shane was shaken into wakefulness a few hours later.

 

 

 

“I-I’m awake… I’m up,” Shane grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. “Ugh… what do you want?”

 

“We’re here, Sleeping Beauty… At the church,” Ryan joked. “Get your lazy ass up so we can meet this priest guy. He has experience with this hospital.”

 

Shane’s eyes cracked open to see that they were in fact, in the parking lot of the church.

 

“How long was I out?”

 

Ryan shrugged. “Long enough to feel better, it looks like… Come on. We’re meeting Elder McKinley in a moment.”

 

“Yeah- hold up… gimme a minute.”

 

Shane stretched out his arms, jaws opening wide in a yawn.

 

“Sure thing, man.”

 

After a moment of Shane stretching and regaining feeling in his arms, they got out of the car. The familiar wobbliness of after-trip settled in his legs, but it felt good to be walking.

 

“I can’t believe we genuinely drove for three days.” Ryan comments. “Thanks for sticking with me that long.”

 

“I could say the same thing to you.”

 

Shane held his hand out to him for a fist bump, and Ryan returned it.

 

“Now let's go speak to this father guy. Oh- Shane!”

 

Shane had almost entered the door when Ryan had put a hand on his shoulder, spinning him around.

 

Ryan’s hand went to his chest, his fingers lingering right over his pounding heart as he undid his button. His hands right there, ghosting over his flannel shirt.The button came undone easily.

 

“There… Just in case. Like- hey… We don’t know about this place.” He looked up at him, not stepping back immediately. Ryan held it out to him.

 

Shane took it back without much thought. “Thanks. Good save.”

 

 

 

Ryan just smiled, finally backing away and holding the door open for him. “After you, sir.”

 

Shane just chuckled. “Don’t call me ‘sir’. I’m not that old, am I?”

 

________

 

McKinley looked over them, head to toe. His wild red hair and freckles that Ryan could count didn’t make for an enormously intimidating presence. He was a young man, a Mormon, and he smiled at them as they entered together.

 

“Thank you for letting me know about your changed date,” He greeted. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

They took turns shaking his hand, before he gestured that they sit down. They obliged, as the Elder offered then tea and water. They declined, and he settled in to tell them the story of the hospital.

 

“Now- I’m sure you to are familiar with the history of Harrisburg Hospital,” Elder said. “But just in case, I feel we should brush over it to pay our respects to those lost.”

 

Ryan nodded in agreement. He liked Pastors, Elders and other Church residence, but some of the things they did he thought would never fail to confuse him.

 

“Well, Harrisburg Hospital was a place where humanity took away their own right to the light of god… They self-destructed without guidance.”

 

Ryan looked over at Shane uncomfortably.

 

“ In 1845, the Harrisburg state hospital was made as an asylum, locked from the inside and out, to help care for the co mmon people of Pennsylvania. In about 1867, there was a massive rise in patients, most of which were experiencing something like hysteria- hallucinations and a mysterious illness. Doctors couldn’t diagnose the illness, and soon the hospital was flooded. They had to cut back spending and distribute money evenly across their patients- they could only spend three to nine dollars a week on any patent. And people started dropping dead.”

Shane just nodded next to him, his fingers gripping at his shirt in the place his button had just been.

 

“The most famous case is that of Josephine and Aaron. They were two young lovers, who, one morning, were discovered dead. They had clearly been shot, but no gun nor intruder was ever reported found. Ghosts of all kinds are rumored to haunt the halls. The souls of those whose fate were sealed by powers unknown and undiscovered. They are said to reappear at night, trying to terrorize those who dare visit. Trying to get others to feel the pain and fearthey did in their deaths.”

 

 

“So… Are there… any recommendations to survive the night?” Shane asked.

 

Elder shifted. “Well… I would say… I think you should try to have the holy spirit on your side.”

“How do we do that?”

 

“I think… honesty. Be honest with yourselves. The spirits who got a happy ending were honest, but they were punished for it- so if you do the same I’m sure they’ll understand you better.”

 

“What about… not provoking the bad spirits?” Ryan asked.

 

“I would say… stick close to each other. I’m sure you already were planning on it, but the evil spirits in that area can’t harm those with counter parts.”

 

“Well…” Ryan nodded. “I was just wondering- if I could maybe get some holy water from here? I’m… pretty nervous.”

 

Shane started snickering at him, and Ryan gave him a sharp kick under the pew. McKinley just looked at them for a moment, side to side, and it was as if suddenly the puzzle fell into place for him.

 

“My sons… where you’re headed, in the way you’re headed… love is the best holy water there is.”

 

“... What,” Shane deadpanned.   
  
“You don’t need holy water. You need love.”

 

Ryan looked slightly off-put. “So… no holy water?”

“If you get afraid, love somebody a little more. That’s all I can really give you. Those bad spirits can’t understand or penetrate the veil of affection. Ah, what is it- ‘text’ your lovers, or call them, reassure one another as friends. Love comes in all forms. Honesty is a large part of that too. Honesty and love.”

 

Shane looked at him, now, worried. Ryan’s pretty sure he’d rather have been handed the holy water, then whatever the hell this guy was telling them.

 

“You two will do fine,” Elder McKinley assured them with a wink.

 

“Thank you, sir…” Ryan said, shaking his hand as steadily as he could. “Thanks a lot.”

 

“Thank you, my sons.” Elder said, turning to shake Shane’s hand. “Don’t be afraid. So long as you hold love, the answers you seek will be found.”

 

 

 

“We’ll try our best.”

 

_________

 

 

“Did you get a load of that guy?” Shane huffed once they were in the car, digging under the seat where he knew their true prize was kept. “Oh! Love and honesty and all sappy things will drive away the demons… OOooOOooOoo…”

 

“You’re an asshole.”

 

Shane procured their beautiful cherry cinnamon pie, and two plastic-ware packs they got at a McDonalds yesterday. Shane removed the wrapping carefully, leaning in close to Ryan as he did so, making sure the pie was in front of him.

 

There was a little part of Ryan that just… cried out. It reminded him that if Shane tilted his head, and leaned just a little closer into him, they could be kissing. It was the most tantalizing ‘so close, yet so far’ feeling of his whole life. Never had he felt so lovesick around anybody.

 

Handing Ryan a plastic knife and fork, they started to eat the pie out of the tin. Exactly what they said they’d do one day into the trip once they arrived. And there they were, their forks tapping together as they both went for the same little piece of pie.

 


	4. Fireflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> UGGGGGGGGG I'm trying so hard to get camp NaNoWriMo done... FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM! I'm writing 2 books, one of which is pretty BFU-like, called How The Devilish fall. It has cute gays, Demons, murder plots, a lot of bleeding and a lot of crying... way too much history on demonic entities... Vulnerability is the less bloody precursor to it... so if you like my writing, check it out! I also post drawing of the boys on occasion, the like. <3 @ Author_Audrey_Binnett

Shane was silhouetted against the rosy lights of the bar sign, proudly spelling the name in bold, GRUMPY’S. Reportedly the best bar in all of Pennsylvania. Shane was willing to make the drive up there- he was more of an alcohol man than Ryan, but Ryan wanted an excuse to thank Shane for what he’d done for him. Besides, a few whiskeys never hurt a broken man.

It was already past five, and Ryan was determined to try and procrastinate getting to their haunted location. They always left the area at 6:30 am, so the later they got there, the less Ryan had to try and hold himself together.

Ryan tries to beat down the little part of himself that’s telling himself that the audience knows them all too well. Shane had some shitty hot dogs one time when they went to the Eastern State Penitentiary, and that turned out like shit. Comment after comment calling him out on how weird he was acting. Now Ryan goes into this, lovesick and broken-hearted? The fans were going to devour him alive- Shane might figure it out… what was he doing?

  
Shane, holding the door open for him with a goofy grin wasn’t helping that anxiety settle well.

What did help them settle well? An Ice cold Whisky. While Shane clutched at a simple beer.

Grumpy’s was filled with life, laughter, and lust. Already attracting a rowdy night crowd. There was a crack of pool balls in the back corner the big screen TVs that displayed a Lakers game- only Ryan couldn’t find it in himself to care at that moment.

There was a smog of alcohol, and a tapping sound of dart boards being struck. Darts was a favorite game of Ryan’s… there was something so satisfying about striking the board with the weighted spear end of the dart, but it made Shane oddly nervous. He recently found out that Shane was a bit of a lier when he talked about his supposed one fear of heroin injection. (still weird thing to e afraid of) Apparently, needles, in general, spooked him badly- supposedly he hadn’t gotten a flu shot in years. He always cowered behind his hands whenever a movie or TV show showed a needle injection- and darts apparently hit that squeamish nervousness on the head. Ryan offered to play darts with him a few times before, and the first few times Shane claimed that he was no good at the game, and he would completely miss the mark, but he finally came clean and explained that it wasn’t inexperienced. It was nervousness.

Shane knew what he was doing, but he didn’t trust that he did. Whereas Ryan had no idea what he was doing but was trying his damn best to be in control.

Maybe they did make a good team.

There were girls in revealing clothing, staring men down who were hot under their collar, while comfortable couples ate dinner in the main dining room. Then… there was Shane.

A behemoth who looked lost, yet happy sitting on his bar stool, Ryan beside him, as they watched the bartender expertly toss a shaker- then peeling a tangerine.

Shane raised his amber beer- Ryan knew it by the smell, and also because it was Shane’s go-to beer when he was someplace new.

“To us, transversing all of America because we fucking could.” Shane toasted, like a corny fucking moron.

“To us,” Ryan said- and because he knew Shane probably wouldn’t remember it after his fourth beer, and also because he has no self-control, Ryan winked at him proudly. “Because we fucking can.”

And suddenly, Ryan has an animalistic urge, like the universe has sewn marionette strings to his lips, and he has to bite down the words. Watching Shane sip his beer in the low light of the critically acclaimed bar, hearing the cheers of basketball fans behind him, and darts somewhere to his right, Ryan can feel his heart beating. The words I love you are on the tip of his tongue. Yet Ryan can’t seem to open his mouth, so he just sips at his bitter whiskey instead.

It hasn’t been the first time.

It’s strange, when his close friends sometimes ask him, or when fans online ask him if he’s ever thought of Shane as more than a friend. The simple answer was of course he has. He’d deny it to his very last breath. It wasn’t an incredibly common occurrence, until this trip had begun at least, but when you spend so many hours a day with a guy, get to know him so well, go bar hopping, trying to find the best whiskeys in town week after week, sleep beside one another in haunted houses, go to dinner, trade drunken stories… it’s hard to not entertain the idea once or twice. It was a normal healthy thing to do… only it becomes a little harder to keep it theoretically when Shane is, objectively, one of the hottest guys Ryan has ever made contact with. The guy used to have a job at fucking Abercrombie and Fitch! You know he was good looking. And girls ogled at him on the streets- he was the classic dreamboat boyfriend. Tall, freakishly fucking tall, rugged, stubble on his face, well groomed, fashionable shirts, with a relaxed posture and a good laugh. All completely objective things. In a weird way… he was always kind of jealous of Sarah, for getting so lucky. If he was a girl- he’d be licking the ground Shane walked upon. The trademark fantasy. There was no room for debate, it was clear fact.

Now… things were a little different. Maybe. For him, at least. While Shane seemed… relatively unaltered… Ryan couldn’t stop thinking about Shane. Shane this, Shane that, and he was now, admitting to himself with a beer in hand, somewhat getting on crush on mother fucking Shane Madej.

It was a Romeo and Juliet type thing (He has the sneaking suspicion that he’d be juliet…. Or the female in the relationship… because Shane would probably make him, in this hypothetical case) A love doomed to fail. By outside forces, by themselves, it didn’t matter. There was no way in hell Shane would ever think of him in that way. The only reason Ryan ever had was that he was such a stereotypical hunk… it was both obligatory and unfair. Ryan was far from that standard. He wore stupid hats, and by his standards, had a less than appealing skin color. (Not that people with colored skin were not pretty at all! It’s just that Ryan didn’t like his exact shade…. It was this weird uncanny valley of tan-ness, not tan enough, and not pale enough… it drove him insane!) His eyes were too close together, and he shook when he laughed. He wasn’t tall, or in shape… he didn’t dress like Shane did… he didn’t clean up well like Shane could- dear god the thought of Shane in a suit did weird things to his head.

He simply wasn’t anybody to look twice at, and Shane literally had all the fish in the sea just begging to be his… what was Ryan really going to matter?

Still, sipping his whiskey he spotted Shane’s gay pride button, hugging his flannel with timidity, and he felt a slight sliver of hope. Maybe Ryan wasn’t competing with all the fish in the sea…

But still, there were way more attractive guys out there, and Ryan hated the thought of Shane with another good looking man more than he loather the thought of him being with a beautiful woman. Shane was his goddamnit…

If only that were true.

It would be the worst. A stab to his chest of closeness. Shane loved men, but he wouldn’t love Ryan. Now that Ryan thought about it, it was kind of inevitable… and that scared him. He wasn’t sure if he could really handle that.

“Ryan?”

Ryan looked up to see Shane looking at him funny.

“You okay man? You’re spacing out on me.”

Ryan just laughed nervously. He would order a harder whiskey next. The faster this alcohol took him the better.

“Yeah- I’m just tired, is all. We had a long… long couple days.”

“We did… that’s for sure…”

“Honestly… after we hit this haunted house- wanna have like… a fuckin’ movie night tomorrow?” Ryan asked. “I could go with some normalcy right now, to be honest.”

“Sounds dope man… like, watch one in the hotel, or go to a theater?”

“Dear God, Shane is that even a question? I want to eat three bags of popcorn, and have not a single goddamn person judge me… besides, nothing good is playing in theaters. Let’s stay inside like the reclusive movie nerds that we are.”

“I love that you get me so much,” Shane said with a smile. “Lazy, popcorn involving procrastination. Sounds great.”

Ryan relaxes, with the words ‘I love (that) you” Ringing in his head, over and over again. I love you, I love you, I love you… I love you…

By the time Ryan orders the second whiskey, The bartender apparently gets off his shift and leans over the counter towards them.

He’s also a tall guy, ginger swooped hair, and freckles that you could connect like constellations.

“How’s your night been going?” He asks, leaning over, clearly ogling at Shane, and the taste of Ryan’s drink is suddenly even more bitter.

Shane looks slightly caught off guard, but figures nothing of it. “It’s been going well, thank you…”

“I haven't seen you around here… are you from outta’ town there, Tiger Toes?”

Ryan gripped his glass a little tighter. The words that echoed in his mind threatening to spill off of his tongue. “I appreciate the thought, but he’s taken I’m afraid, please don’t call him that…” It would be so easy to say… but it wasn’t.

“Yeah- I am…” Shane said, uneasy. “Why?”

“Oh- it’s just that we don’t have too many cute new faces around here, not like you, at least.” He said, pointing at Shane’s button. “You seem rather open about yourself… are you from the West Coast?”

Shane nodded. Apparently, this guy couldn’t pick up on a hint. That or he chose not to.

Ryan took a deep breath- before clutching his beer a little closer.

“I’m sorry sir… but he’s already taken.” Ryan spoke up, Shane stared at him, relieved and alarmed.

“Oh-” The bartender said- “A pity… I’m sorry sir.” He reached out his hand to Shane to shake it, and Shane reluctantly obliged. “You are a fine looking one… you could have any guy you want in the world… are you sure you want… him?” The bartender pointed at Ryan.

Ryan nearly blew his act by choking on his drink.

Shane just narrowed his eyes at the guy.

“Hell yes, I want him. I’m no fool, I know how to choose my men, thank you… He’s better than any other guy out there. I’m flattered, but I think it’s time you take your leave.”

Ryan’s chest felt light and empty, at the sudden praise. He knew it was all fabricated in the thick of the moment. But Shane telling him that he was the best man on the planet made him feel like he was.

“I understand… have a good night sir.” but before he took his leave he leaned over to Ryan.

“I’d be careful if I were you… there are plenty of better-looking guys out there, interested in him.”

“Why don’t you fuck off?” Shane growled. “Goodbye.”

And the bartender, sober, left to be replaced by the night worker.

“Yo… you almost done with that drink?” Shane asked. “I know we were in a mood for quality alcohol… but there’s always convenience store beer man… and I’m a little over this place already.” There was a true discomfort in Shane’s eyes, and Ryan couldn’t help but oblige immediately, this was supposed to be a treat for Shane, a time to relax between all of his generosity… but…

Shit.

“Yeah,” Ryan said, swigging the last of it, in one brave gulp.

“Okay then… Shane said- paying off the tab fast, and skirting out of the door, Ryan following loyally.

The cold air rushed to meet them. So much for getting to their haunted location late. There were fireflies, dancing around them, hugging their leaves, and Ryan took some solace in that.

“That guy was an asshole.” Shane sore, fingers flexing out towards the darkened ground. Cold air nipped at Ryan’s nose, and his toes were stiffening in the autumn night, as cars rushed past a nearby highway. “He was such a jackass to you…”

“I mean, he wasn’t wrong, in theory,” Ryan admitted. “You’re a steal man.”

“Like you aren't? Ryan, that guy was just salty.”

Ryan swears this trip will kill him. Screw the spirits and angry ghosts, Shane’s stupid grin, and his big heart and his unrelenting, undeserved flattery were going to give him a heart attack before anything else could get to him.

“You think so?”

“You don’t?”

“Helen didn’t seem to…”

“Well, Helen made some mistakes, okay? I seriously don’t know what her deal was.”

“Says the guy who used to have a job at Abercrombie.”

“AGAIN WITH MY OLD JOB AT ABERCROMBIE? Let it go, man! Those were the most traumatic years of my life!”

Ryan kicked back his head and laughed. The air seemed more agreeable now that Shane was smirking like he controlled the temperature of the sky with his mood. He certainly seemed to have more control of Ryan’s world then normal.

“Why did you accept a job there then?”

“Do you know how much money you can get by just standing there and trying to look like a One Direction member? It was a lot… kinda scary actually.”

“What about your boss who had no idea what an apple tastes like?”

Shane grimaced, “I still don’t know what the fuck THAT was about… Like seriously. Had she never had an apple before? That’s ridiculous!”

“Maybe she was high?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her… weird things happen in Abercrombie.”

“Quote of the decade folk! Hear it now!”

“Shut up.”

Laughing to themselves, they ducked into the car, jabbing playfully at one another. The drive to the location wasn’t as intimidating as it was being made out to be, not by a long shot- but maybe Ryan was looking at things through rose-colored glasses.

The Harrisburg Hospital is on a hill, rotting away underfoot as Shane and Ryan climb up.

There's something very constricting about the black, steel fences and the barbed wire that spins around itself like sour cotton candy.

The electricity that runs through the veins of the chained out exit should’ve died along with the victims of the vicinity, but you can never be too sure, can you? So Ryan didn’t touch the metal between washed out signs that read warnings of high voltage, and the worse danger inside the walls.

“So… how long are we staying?” Ryan asked, as, against Shane’s protests, they found a real entrance, as opposed to simply jumping over the wall.

“Ryan, we haven't even entered the building.”

“I know! This place gives me the heebie-jeebies though…”

Shane just rolled his eyes, following him up, using the wilted grass and the spots of missing earth that looked like a decaying tooth as a foothold with each upward step.

“You say that at every location we go to dude! Grow up! This is a prison were a hundred or so people died- and you’ve read way too much into it- of course you’re gonna feel weird. You’re chicken shit.”

“Shut up.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Welp. Harrisburg State hospital…. Here we come.”

__________

There’s a clatter to his left.

“What the fuck?”

They were below the earth's surface. Shane knew that he couldn’t take his mind off of the number of heavy rocks above his head. If there was a rockfall… he was a goner.

An entwined series of tunnels, catacombs under the hospital. Honestly- Shane sometimes wonders if all of these places are just a fever dream. There seriously cannot be this many places that have underground tunnels, or runway systems, or… whatever the fuck this was.

Seriously. This was just a tired trope at this point- and it was one of Shane’s greatest fears. Being crushed alive. He hated the idea of the claustrophobia of it. Not that he would ever admit it. Ryan was the weak, whimpering, frightened, vulnerable one of them.

“I don’t have any holy water…” Ryan fretted. “What the fuck am I supposed to do if a demon shows themselves here?”

“Do you even believe in holy water?”

“I mean… not really. It’s just better than nothing.”

“Well, who knows.” Shane huffed. “Maybe this demon is a nice demon.”

“This thing has been damned to suffer here eternally, it’s bitter and angry and wants to kill anybody it sees.”

“Or maybe it doesn’t want to… maybe just wants to have a nice cup of tea with us. Tell us his life story. Or her life story. Equal opportunity here.”

“You’re telling me that if you spent thousands of years down here, simmering with the injustice of your death, never being able to leave. You wouldn't lash out at these two bimbos that came waltzing down into your hole? You’d kill them so they could suffer the same thing.”

“No! That’s so rude…” Shane said. “I’d just show myself and enjoy their company. Let them film me, and see how much more company I could attract. No need to kill anybody.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah- I’d want to enjoy my stay, not murder people. someday some ghost scientist might be able to free me.”

“So… tea.”

“Yeah,” Shane said. “That doesn’t sound that weird to me- aside from the fact that ghosts aren't real.”

“Screw you too… I know who the demon is eating first.”

“Whatever you sa-”

  
Just then- there was a huge clattering sound from somewhere behind them.

“What the FUCK?!”

“That was behind us?” Shane asked. “But… we just came from that way?”

  
“Gee- thanks for the obvious Sherlock.” Ryan whimpered, his face was pale, as Shane flickered his light over to look at him. “Seriously though… what. Was. That?”

Shane looked pensive. “I honestly have no idea.”

It might’ve been Shane's imagination and Wishful thinking, but he could’ve sworn that Ryan stepped closer to him out of caution and fear. “Do you have any science-y explanation for that?”

“I… can’t say that I do, actually.” Shane huffed. “I mean… there might be rocks, or an animal or something.”

“We are in a highly desolate area… there is nobody in this vicinity but us, and what are the chances that an animal not only gets into this hospital but also through the steel doors into this cave system? That has concrete walls? Nothing borrowed from under the ground in here Shane… You can’t explain this one.”

“Maybe it was a machine starting up?”

“What machines would be starting up? What’s starting them? WHO’S STARTING THEM?!”

“I don’t know Ryan!” Shane exclaimed. “I don’t know- but just because we don’t know, doesn’t mean it’s a ghost.”

“What else could it Be- EHHH!” Ryan let out an almost comical squeal and suddenly, was brushing up against Shane’s side.

“Ryan?! What are you doing?”

“I could swear I just felt something… something brushes past me. I don't know what it was, but… it wasn’t the fucking wind. There is no wind down here, Shane… something just moved past me and Fuck- fuck- fuck- fuck-”

“Ryan, calm down man…” Shane tried, but his paranoia would wear him down before long- especially because Ryan had come into the location already distraught, Shane came in still carrying some awkward emotions from the bar, and neither of them could explain away the noises that they’d just heard.

“I don’t know why I’m here- why am I here, why do I do this to myself…”

“Which way was the thing that brushed past you moving?” Shane asked, as they carefully read towards the entrance, where they’d heard the first clatter.

“I felt like it was moving from up here, back behind us again.”

And what do you know? There was a jumbled whispering that came from behind them.

“Fucking SHIT!” Ryan yelped “Oh GODDAMNIT WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!”

And Shane, before he would ever say a word, herd another eerie clatter in that direction. In the blink of an eye, Ryan was secured around his arm, clutching on to him. “Fuck- Shane, Shane we’re getting the FUCK OUT OF HERE!” He yelped. “Now! Please?” And Shane chased Ryan along, hand in hand down the rotting, darkened hallway, away from something that Shane Madej couldn’t explain by science.

Shane Madej wasn’t sure how much he would really be doubting anything by the time this was over, including himself.

“Please oh please oh please…” Ryan was chanting and begging whatever god would listen. “Get me the fuck outta here, I changed my mind, I do NOT WANT TO RISK MY LIFE TO DISCOVER GHOSTS TONIGHT NOT ONE FUCKING BIT!”

And he scaled the stairwell two steps at a time, fingers trembling slightly as he gripped onto Shane's hand as tightly as he possibly could.

Shane just followed as quickly as he could and by the time Ryan burst through the doors and shut them closely behind he really was shaking, collapsing and leaning against the door, legs giving out from under him.

He just glared up at Hane as he settled down beside him.

“You want to maybe try explaining what the fuck that was, smartass?” Ryan asked, “Because to me that sounded like… A FUCKING GHOST BECAUSE IT WAS.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t a ghost,” Shane assured him, but he could tell that empty promises were; not going to dissolve the panic swimming in Ryan’s gaze, and Shane figured he’d have to find an explanation and convince Ryan of it fast, or tonight was going to be even longer than it had to be.

“I know, that that was scary…” Shane said. “And I’m not discrediting its creepiness, but this is an old building, and it’s one of the coldest nights of the season. The entire building is probably shifting around a whole lot from above us, you know? That’s how science works.”

“I don’t know…” Ryan fretted, still grabbing onto him relentlessly. “That sounded like it was in the tunnels with us…”

  
“Ryan, there is no such thing as ghosts.” Shane tried to remind him. “You’re crazy.”

“No, you’re crazy if you didn’t think that was weird!”

“I mean, yeah it was weird, but not everything that’s weird means ghosts!”

Ryan just sighed. “I guess…”

“Here…” Shane said, reluctantly pulling out of Ryan’s grip. “I have my book on me… would that help you chill the fuck out?” Shane prayed that Ryan would say yes because he sure as hell needed to read some to relax.

“So.. now we’re reading poetry in a haunted house?”

“I mean- yeah?” Shane offered, skipping ahead a few pages into the rising and blooming parts of the book.

“Okay… hit me with that poetry nerd.”

Shane smiled. This was nice, repaying Ryan for reading it to him.

“You must have a honeycomb for a heart. How else could a man be this sweet? If you got any more beautiful the sun would leave its place and come for you. The chase.”

Ryan smiles. The collection of short, blossoming poetry was nice to think about, rather than the fact that they might not be as alone as they think they were in this place.

Shane scanned the next poem in the dark, it was hard to read in the dimmer lights, but at least they were out of those damn tunnels. This poem wat longer than the rest, and the last in the chapter.

_______

It has been one of the greatest and most difficult years of my life.

I learned that everything is temporary. Moments. Feelings. People. Flowers. I learned that love is about giving. Everything. And letting it hurt.

I learned that vulnerability is always the right choice because it is easy to be cold in a world that makes it so very difficult to remain soft.

I learned that all things come in twos. Life and death. Pain and joy. Salt and sugar. Me and you. It is a balance of the universe.

It has been a year of hurting so bad but living so good. Making friends out of strangers. Making strangers out of friends. Learning that mint chocolate chip ice cream will fix just about everything. And for the pains it can’t, there will always be my mother's arms.

We must learn to focus on warm energy. Always. Soak our limbs in it and become better lovers to the world.

For if we can learn to be kind to each other how will we ever learn to be kind to the most desperate parts of ourselves.

_____

They had stilled, breathing, as Shane finished the poem. The final page, ready to turn into the next chapter.

“That was amazing.” Ryan huffed after a moment. “If you let go the hippie vibe… damn.”

Shane just laughed. “It takes a while to get there… and it’s really satisfying. You can read an entire book in a night… there’s something so atmospheric about poetry I guess…”

Ryan just nodded. “Text me those recommendations?” He asked. But he had a gut feeling that once he was out of here, he’d be picking up his own copy of The Sun and Her Flowers.

  
“Sure thing buddy,” Shane promised. “Anything for you my man…”

They sat there, together, simply embracing the feeling around them until Ryan had relaxed a little bit, at least to the point that Shane couldn’t feel his heartbeat pumping when their hands touched, so he’d count that as an improvement.

“Look… let's ignore the tunnel system and… roam around the place, okay?”

  
“Okay…”

“Sweet.” And Shane offered his hand out to Ryan to help him upwards.

_________

In 1845, the Harrisburg state hospital was made as an asylum, locked from inside and out, formed to help care for the common people of Pennsylvania.

In about 1867, the hospital hit a rut in funding as people flooded in. Hysteria had gripped the city, and people all around had started coughing, choking, and hallucinating with no origin. Nobody knows what started it… but soon the hospital was flooded and was forced to budget heavily. They could only spend three to nine dollars a week on any patent. No more. And people started dropping dead.

The most famous case is that of Josephine and Aaron. Two lovers that one morning, were found dead, on the floor, holes in their heads, brain matter on the walls, yet no weapon, nor intruder was ever found.

Ghost of all kinds is rumored to haunt the halls. The souls of those whose fate was sealed by powers unknown and undiscovered. Electric fences couldn’t keep out the malice.

It became known as “The city on the hill” as it locked itself away, trying to hide the murders. But patents and nurses were dropping like flies. Insanity resonating, mental illness and misunderstanding again and again. Love gone too bitter. And you couldn’t put an electric fence around that.

_________

Shane swears, that his knees never go weaker then whenever he’s looking into Ryan’s eyes. There’s certain opium to it… he just can’t place it.

“So… shadow people?”

“Shadow people… yeah.” Ryan said. “They’re like… common here.”

“Well tell me if you see any of these ‘shadow people’...” Shane couldn’t help but put up air quotes when he said it, like the douchebag that eh knew he was. “Or a demon, or whatever’s supposedly here.”

“All of the above, jackass,” Ryan growled. God, what he would do to just up and leave this place.

“Cool beans….” Shane droned. “I'll be in this other room, taunting the demons… but I bet they’ll bore me, so I’ll probably just have time to read… Did you hear that you fucking cowards?!” Shane called over his shoulder at the entities that Ryan knows are there.

“Shane! What are you doing! That’s the dumbest thing you could be doing right now! Shane?! What the fuck!”

  
“Ghosties!” Shane called. “Shosties?!! Do you wanna come have a nice chat with me? Or maybe… I dunno, write me some poetry? Spin me a tale? Have some tea?!”

“You can write your own damn poetry!” Ryan pouted. “At least tease the ghosts once I’m out of the vicinity you jackass!”

“Wait- … did I tell you that I started to write poetry? How did you know that?”

Ryan stiffened up. “Lucky guess?” For some reason, he thought that mentioning the annotations might be a bad idea. “Just… go taunt some ghosts.”

Shane looked slightly distraught. “Okay then… I will.”

“Whatever man…” Ryan sighed, headed in the opposite direction. “Would you mind finding a place to sleep for us if you're just going to rile up the demon?” fuck the demon episode of the season man… fuck that.

“Sure dude… OH DAE-MON!”

“I SAID YOU NEED TO NOT DO THAT WHEN I’M AROUND!!!”

______

There’s a clatter. A banging to his right and Ryan’s light flashes over in the direction immediately.

“... Hello?”

Nothing.

“... is anybody there?”

Still, there was nothing. Moments ago there was something there, making a noise, clearly existing but once Ryan’s light was on it… it had completely vanished.

It was gone, gone, gone, gone…

“I know you were there… where the fuck are you?”

There was still… nothing, and somehow that made it worse. Ryan didn’t even realize his was backing away until his spine his the wall.

“SHIT!!!” He swore, leaping back only to realize his foolheartedly. “Goddamnit… uh… is that Aaron? Or Josephine? Or… anybody else?”

But his pleas fell on empty ears.

________

If I could describe you in a word  
It would be Firefly  
Free and harmless  
Lighting the way of darker, more vulgar creatures  
Illuminating an evil world  
Out of the good of his heart  
Ryan  
You light up my skies

-Shane

_______

There Ryan stood, staring down the lover's chamber. There are still stains on the walls. They never cleaned the blood off. They were afraid it would attract too much attention. By the time anybody did bother to clean it… it permanently stained the wall.

Ryan could see it now. Dead, cracked, broken love. Dead, cracked, broken people, that found solace in others.

Ryan couldn’t even imagine that kind of love dying like that… they had no idea what happened.

He called out, alone, asking if anybody was there… only for no answer to come to his lonely ears.

_______

I’ve seen you in them before  
But i’d like to see you in one again  
Just to see if  
My view of you really has changed  
Or if  
It was just my imagination

In my imagination  
A suit would suit you well  
It would emphasize your physique  
Make you more powerful than soft  
I wonder then  
If the suit is a lie  
And my new view is a lie with it

Self doubt  
Shane Madej.

____________

It’s been an hour, and Ryan had collided with Shane and picked out a nice, hopefully, unhaunted cell to sleep in. Shane stayed behind, setting up their camp, and preparing food on a portable stove… you know, like a moron, Ryan went out to check another place solo.

It was strategic actually. The ghosts were said to be more willing to appear to people if they were on their own. Hence why Elder McKinley had told them to stay close to avoid getting attacked by the undead.

It just made logical sense, if you stopped to consider it, and you should.

But now Ryan’s hearing footsteps, tapping of something, from the left, then the right, then the left… then the right…

And he doesn’t know what to do.

_______

I like to think that you like to think about it  
I like to think that you enjoyed it  
I liked to think that you loved it  
I love to think that you loved them  
I love to think that you love me

I know it wasn’t perfect, but that wasn’t what I promised  
I promised you something different, and something to love  
Did I not do just that?  
I gave you a family  
You gave me a smile  
I gave you a gift  
you gave me a laugh  
I gave you my vulnerability  
You gave me your trust  
And isn’t that what a home is all about?  
It’s not where you are  
It’s how you feel when you’re there.

Shane Madej

_________

Ryan swears… there was a flash of a shadowy figure.

“Fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuCKFUCKFUCK!”

He scurried out into the hallway, almost in tears. “Fuck! Nope!” His camera is behind him, trying to capture whatever the hell is behind him because that is not a human.

“Shane!” He cries, but he has a whole hall to cover.

“Shane!”

  
_________

Do you sometimes think about that night  
The night was I really saw you cry  
The night I held you closer than I ever have  
And wonder what might’ve happened  
Had I had the same courage as you  
To tell you what you meant to me

What might’ve happened  
Had you loved me first, and her second  
Rather than pushing me off to maybe a second choice  
Or maybe a never choice

What might happen  
If it wasn’t in your control  
If it was in mine instead

I don’t think I would like that  
Because we both know that love isn’t compromise  
Love is two people and one feeling of happiness  
Not two people and a half feeling of happiness

So even as you cry in my arms  
Know that I too  
Cry sometimes  
And though I don’t do it in the loving grasp of anybody  
It doesn't mean that I'm alone  
It just means I wish to keep things simple.

Shane Madej

________

“Fuck no NO NO GET AWAY FROM ME!”

Surely, Shane could hear his panic by now?

Ryan’s never run so fast in his whole life. His pounding footsteps sending shocks up his legs, maybe the night would’ve been better had he actually just gotten himself electrocuted after all. Stopping the night from ever progressing.

He was tripping over himself, tears in his eyes, yelping in panic. This wouldn’t be good under any circumstance.

______

I think I forgot how to do it a long time ago  
That or you  
Made me indulge in it for forever  
And I didn’t know how to recognize it

All those years  
Doing it for people  
That I didn’t care about  
When you were right there

I think I’ve opened my eyes now  
No longer blind  
To what we had

I think I may love you  
That is  
If i even remember how to

If I don’t  
Please teach me  
I want to know

Shane Madej

_______

Ryan Bergara has lost it.

There’s something behind him… he knows it.

There’s something about his possibly imagined peril that forces him to look back. The one thing he swore he wouldn’t do two days ago.

Before a notion, a full idea hit him. He didn’t have anything to look back for. He had a person. He had Shane…

That’s all he can really remember- bars, family, seven elevens, Mexican restaurants… everything was Shane.

“Shane I swear to fuck! HELP!”

He could’ve sworn he could feel the demon on his heels- or whatever it was, by the time that Shane poked himself out of the doorway.

“Ryan?”

And Ryan knew that if that was the last thing he ever saw? Then things would be okay. Seeing Shane, peeking out from behind a cavernous door, concerned for him would be a nice last thing to witness.

______

I’m not sure if I’m ready to try to love again  
I feel worn and broken through, like an old rag before the mends  
Like an olden secretary before a morning of strong coffee  
Like this is still a fever dream I have yet to wake up from.

But even so, I think this once I can grit my teeth  
And try to be as brave as you  
Because you are for me

________

Shane is knocked backward, landing heavily on his back, as Ryan barreled into his arms without hesitation. Shane’s fast reflexes caught him midleap, and they stumbled backward into the room where they would be sleeping, Ryan sobbing frantically, grabbing at Shane like he might disappear from this reality.

Shane immediately looked up, words were Ryan had come from, but nothing was there…

“Ryan? What’s wrong?”

Shane finally finds that, even with no response, that Ryan isn’t crying… he’s just trembling so badly he can’t stand without clutching onto Shane’s shirt and whimpering broken half words into the empty air.

Shane just hugs him close, looking for something to trigger this sort of panic in Ryan, but saw nothing.

“Ryan…” Shane hushes softly. “I don’t know what that was… but relax. You’re safe now… we can leave now if you want.”

  
Ryan still can’t manage a full word, but he does shake his head in refusal to leave- which is fucking ludicrous, but Shane knows that Ryan is the type of guy who imagines that debts are owed where they aren't.

It's just that simple.

Ryan needed to stay for his pride, so Shane didn’t say anything more, just relaxed his shoulders, hoping that Ryan would follow his lead, with his face and hands so very close to his button and his beating, beating heart.

_____

It only takes a few minutes more, but Shane savers them like Cherry tootsie pops on his tongue.

Finally, they’re settling in early for the night, Ryan regaining his composure, reaching a compromise. That they won't mention it again or film it, and they’ll stay. It’s unspoken, and really only in Ryan’s head. Shane would never do anything that would purposefully make him that uncomfortable.

Well… he did pretend to die in that lighthouse, but Ryan doesn’t want to think about it. There were some things better left forgotten, and that was one of them.

With their sleeping bags laid out, and both of them having settled in for the night, Ryan finally was able to articulate to Shane what he thought he saw. When Shane viewed the footage, however… there seemed to be nothing there.

“I’m telling you, Ryan… it’s your own imagination. You are your own worst enemy in places like this, not the ghosts… you gotta relax. I know it’s been an intense week but relax buddy…”

“I swear I wasn't alone out that- this place is bullshit, there was something out there!”

“Fine. I’ll go check then, and you stay here…”

“Don’t you dare go out there alone!” Ryan squeaked. “Shane! It’s dangerous!”

Shane looked down. What?

Ryan could see the doubt in his eyes. “I mean… I should go too, just in case. And we should bring a camera… but can’t we just go to bed?”

“I think you’ve had enough excitement for the night there, buddy.”

“Shane! Please don’t leave me alone!” Ryan blurted. He was trying to avoid the idea… but no… there they were.

“What?”

“You heard me…” Ryan whispered. “Please don't leave me here alone.”

Certainly not the most masculine thing he's ever said. Not by a longshot- but reason seemed to have vanished from the surface of the earth.

Shane just squinted at him for a moment, before rubbing the back of his neck. “If you’re really that scared, of course I won’t leave you… you are chicken shit though.”

“Of course.” Ryan wheezed. “You always have to be at least a partial dick to me, huh?”

“It’s in my blood baby!”

Ryan just huffed. The phrase “Don’t call me baby.” On the tip of his tongue, but they didn't come out.

  
“That’s… I appreciate that Shane. I appreciate everything you do for me.”

Shane looked around skeptically. “Dude… we are in the middle of a haunted house, are you sure this is the ideal place to get all… existential? Or sappy?”

Ryan shrugged. “Sorry, sometimes I just do things like that… they just happen.”

Shane just chuckled, settling back down into his sleeping back. “It's fine, just chill a little dude… there are no such things as shadow monsters.”

“You don’t know that!”

  
“Yes. I practically do… what would Elder McKinley say?”

“Something pretty gay? I dunno…” Ryan said. “Shit- sorry.”

“No offense taken,” Shane said. “It’s factually true… I suppose.”

“Yeah- he was a funny guy. I liked him- but I really would’ve liked some fucking holy water about now.”

“You’re still hung up about that?”

“Yes, I’m still hung up about that! I have an empty super soaker and no holy water, and an insane asylum with lots of demons!”

Shane just laughed. “I don’t know how I nearly forgot about that… your super soaker Of holy water… right… you fucking took off your pants on that bridge…”

“That was just your interpretation of it!”

Shane just laughed again. Ryan was an interesting guy to say the very least, and Shane was lucky to have a guy like that in his life. Kept things spicy, to say the least.

Ryan had settled in, curling in on himself, like making himself smaller would somehow aid in a ghost missing him. Stupid, of course, but so was a super soaker of holy water, and that never seemed to stop Ryan.

There was faint rustling from outside in the distance, from outside it sounded like. Shane saw Ryan tense up, but dismiss it as it blew through. Wind existed, Ryan was just paranoid. More than not.

“So… were you writing any poetry?” Ryan joked as a little crackle of tree branches made him twitch nervously- clearly in the mood to stay awake.

“Eh- not really.” Came the lie. “Why?”

“Oh, I was just wondering, you fucking hippie.”

“I am not a hippie- I’d go kill a man for a million dollars, does that sound like a hippie to you?”

“Well, you’d probably go donate that money to an animal shelter or some shit anyway…”

  
“Damn it,” Shane swore because Ryan was right. He has a weakness for animal shelters. He’s not vocal about it, but Ryan caught him volunteering at the humane society one lonely holiday. Because burying your emotions in dogs is valid and amazing.

“Eat shit, asshole,” Shane said, after realizing he’d been quiet for a minute. “What would you do with a million extra dollars?”

“Buy a million items off the one dollar menu at McDonald's for the homeless and hungry. Duh.”

Shane laughed at that idea. “How many Mcdonalds would you have to go to for that?”

“Damn it, Shane, you know I’m weak for calculating useless shit…” Ryan swore, reaching over to grab his phone. “Let's find out.”

He tapped on his phone for a moment, Shane wheezing at the idea. “Okay… suppose that every McDonalds sells fifty percent of their food a day, okay?” Ryan estimated. “And Mcdonalds feeds… 68 million people a day.”

“Holy fuck!” Shane exclaims. “That’s so many people!”

“About…” Ryan squints. “One percent of the world's population… goddamn.”

“Holy fuck…. America is boned.”

“And there are 36,899 locations worldwide…” Ryan said, before pulling up the calculator on his phone.

“So that means every location serves… 1842.86 and the number goes on a bit per day… divided by two… about 921 people a day they could serve extra… meaning…”

Shane held his breath. He loved how into these dumb calculations Ryan could get.

“It would take about one thousand, and eighty-six McDonalds to feed a million people one thing off their one dollar menu.”

Shane burst out laughing. “And what percentage of the world’s McDonalds would that be?”

“Two point nine percent.”

“So you’d need three percent of the worlds McDonald's?”

“Apparently.”

“That’s strangely amazing?” Shane questioned, but he did enjoy the idea. “And I thought a three-day road trip was hard… imagine how long that would take!”

“Image all the people we’d feed thought!”

“We’d have to find one million hungry people first thought.”

“How long would that take?” Ryan rhetorically asked. “Let’s find out.”

“No! Stop!” Shane joked, he didn’t really care, but he’d like to save Ryan the sanity.

They chuckled. Okay… but I do want to know how long that would take,”

“Why?!”  
  
“Okay… so it’s about an average of 4 miles between McDonald's…”

“Dear Lord…”

“And if we multiply 4 times 1086… is 4,344 overall miles… and if the average speed is 45 miles per hour… that would be 96 total hours of driving. And if we divide that into days… that’s almost 4 days without stopping by car… 5 days because you’re stopping at every damn Mcdonalds in the area, and waiting to buy out all of their possible one dollar menu items left.” He finally finished, to see Shane still wheezing.

“Well great! I just… what are you going to do with that information now that you have it?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Ryan said, proudly. “My curious side is satisfied, I don’t need anything else.”

“You’re a moron.”

“Well, you don’t believe in ghosts.”

“It amazing how you say that like it makes me intellectually inferior to you, which could not be further from the truth.” Shane joked. “It’s honestly really sad that you believe in ghosts when all the experience you’ve had was a toothpaste container falling off a shelf.”

“It did not FALL.”

“Ryan… it fell.”

“Shut up. At least I don’t believe in Bigfoot.”

“We’ve been over this! Bigfoot is my homie and you’re an even bigger moron for not thinking so.”

“Whatever.”

Shane rolled his eyes, normally Ryan wouldn’t be able to see it, but they still had their flashlights on. Ryan had refused to turn them out for the night.

“Look man… can I go to bed now?” Shane asked. “It was a long day, and I’m still not feeling 100% after our car ride yesterday. I want some real sleep on the solid ground.”

“You sure you don’t want me to read to you again?” Ryan teased.

“Shut up, Bergara.” He growled back, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t plan on reading more.

Ryan was quiet and turned away from him. They’d be sleeping with the lights on tonight. In the silence, Shane drew out his tiered copy of The Sun And Her Flowers And indulged in a poem. He was almost done with the book.

—————-

It was when I stopped  
Searching for home within others  
And lifted the foundations of home within myself  
I found there were no roots more intimate  
Then those between a mind and body  
And me and you  
That have decided to be whole

————

“Shane?”

“Yeah?” Shane turned his head over his shoulder to get a good look at Ryan’s back, which was turned to him, a clumped together sleeping bag tied down by his tight fists.

“What would happen if there were a ghost here?”

“Then you would be right, and I’d make sure you lived to tell the tale.”

Ryan sighed. “Okay…”

“You’d want to read my poetry?” Shane asked. “I hate to break it to you, buddy, but I’m no Rupi Kaur… or Robert Frost… Or Sylvia Plath. Ralph Waldo Emerson… none of the above.”

“Of course you aren’t. You’re Shane Madej.” Ryan said, “I said I wanted to read it, not that I expected it to be any good.”

“Wow. Rude much?”

“I call em' as I see em', buddy.”

“Unfortunately…” Shane grumbled. “They’re all about stupid stuff anyway.”

“Like what?”

“Like half-baked metaphors for stuff, but it’s all like… tic-tac-toe games or something. Clumsy and stupid.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Ryan said, and Shane was starting to feel slightly annoyed with his friend's unwavering confidence in him. He felt like he didn’t live up to the illusion.

“Would you just… go back to bed please?” Shane said, still staring at the opposing wall.

“Yeah… sorry.”

_____________

You are a mirror  
If you continue to starve yourself of love  
You’ll only meet people  
Who’ll starve you too  
If you soak yourself in love  
The universe will hand you those  
Who will love you too

_________

There’s a tap on the door, and Ryan goes rigid.

There’s another tap, and Shane looks up.

At the third tap, Ryan had shifted closer.

“Shane? Are you up?”

Shane mumbled something probably incoherent… he was a little drowsy to be self-aware.

“Did you hear that?”

“Yeah? So?”

“What time is it?” Ryan asked, and there was a panic tittering in his voice.

Shane glanced over and found his phone in the still lightroom. “Uh… three twenty in the morning? Go to sleep buddy.”

“FUCK!” Ryan swore. “Dude! That’s the witching hour, remember? Oh, no! No! No, no, no!”

“Calm down there man.” Shane said. “Witches aren't real, ghosts aren't either-...”

Suddenly, there was a loud clang, like a copper gong being struck with a cotton mallet.

“Fuck! Did you hear THAT?” Ryan yelped. “That’s a ghost!” And Shane didn’t have time to so much breathe before Ryan was clinging to his arm again. “I don’t get how you can discount all of that, this is all bullshit! Shane! That’s a fucking demon.”

“Or it’s the building. Or the wind. Or an animal… Ryan. There are no such things as ghosts…”

There was another clatter again, and Ryan swore, clutching tighter to him, like clinging to him would somehow save him.

Shane walled his other arm around Ryan, as a way to calm him. Natural instinct, nothing more, obviously.

“Ryan…” Shane said, trying to muster all of his strength and channeling it into resisting the urge to laugh nervously. “There are no ghosts here.” Shane felt like a dad.

Ryan just nodded slowly, but he still didn’t look well. There was an earthquake in his fingers, and his fake had drawn a blank.

“Then what was that.”

“It wasn’t a ghost,” Shane repeated… like some uninspired dead mantra. Which, it really was at this point.

“are you sure?”

“yes, I am…”

And with that, Ryan settled in. Not releasing him, tucking in even closer. He laid down in the space just next to Ryan. Close, closer, closer.

“I don't want to be here…” Ryan admitted quietly. “I really don't want to be here.”

Shane, trying not to burst, but his lip around the nervousness.

“Come here…” Shane whispered instead. And turned to face Ryan. Eye to eye, vulnerability.

“Shane?” Ryan weakly managed. “what are you-?”

Shane, too there to really put conscious thought into his actions, tossed an arm over Ryan's waist. “Ryan… you're safe here. Please… don't. Don't make this worse for yourself.”

Ryan just stared up at him. Almost helpless.   
“I've got you… calm down.”

Ryan's eyes were lined with tears, on closer inspection, eyes staring straight back into his own. “I've got you…”

Ryan, holding his gaze for a moment more, snapped. Breaking in two, in his grasp. Tears overflowed, trembling, whimpering as they hung onto Shanes shirt, like a desperate koala.

“Shane…” Ryan choked out. “Shane, Shane holy fuck… what am i… Shane… what should I do?”

His words were a word jumble read aloud, and pricing together even that broken sentence took Shane a minute.

“Do what?”

“Everything… Helen, ghosts, my job… a house, I don't know what to do!”

“You're doing great so far…” Shane assured him. “you don't need to worry about Helen… you can stay with me as long as you need, were on track to keep filming unsolved… and ghosts aren't real. What else do you want?”

"You'd really let me stay with you?”

Shane rubbed Ryan's back a few times with his fingertips, like a real father. “of course I would.”

Ryan's nose had found a home deep in his shirt.

“Shane… thank you. Thank you for everything, for sticking with me, helping me… I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“Don't worry about it…” Shane braided him. “don't worry 'bout a thing.”

Ryan just held him closer… closer…

“No ghosts?”

Shane smiled down at Ryan, only to find him looking up at him again, fists clenched to his shirt.

“Yeah, Ryan… there are no ghosts.”

And Shane had never felt more out of control. His thumping heart lodged in the back of his throat. He felt hands in his chest, and Shanes moved to the sides of Ryan's face like it's what he was born to do. Meant to be…

Their forehead touched, Shane leaning downwards. Like the only movement in his limbs was being controlled by fate.

And suddenly, their lips met. And he was kissing Ryan.

Shane's chest exploded into warmth, a shiver gripped his fingers trembling against Ryan's face.

A flood of love, joy everything, and feels Shane had never had before rushed up to meet him, and suddenly he wasn't in a haunted asylum, kissing Ryan Steven Bergara.

It wasn't an action it was a feeling, lips pressed together stubbornly, not moving but Shane was frozen in time, as his mouth flooded, and his heart burst again, only to reform, and burst, again and again, there was so much movement and love and they were still.

Ryan then pulled away. Merely inches back. Eyes fearfully looking up at him.

“Shane?” But he was smiling, red-faced, a nervous grin from ear to ear. “oh… oh, holy shit…”

Shane just started, smiling subconsciously so are his cheeks hurt. He'd just… he'd…

“So god help me… don't wake me up from whatever dream this is.”

Ryan choked out a half laugh, coming from somewhere between his belly and his heart. Before, without warning again, he turned under Shane and pressed a hard kiss square on the underside of Shane's chin.

Shane drew in a breath, but his lungs remained empty, heart nonexistent and hammering at life-threatening levels at the same time. He felt electricity shoot up and down his spine, and he gasped. “holy fuck.”

“Fuck…” Ryan swore too. “we just… oh god.”

Shane felt like he was a puddle, oozing into the floor. He found his answer, after all, he would be the one who got weak in the knees every time.

“Ryan…” Shane whispered his name. “Oh god, Ryan…”

Ryan was back to burying his face in his chest. Shane felt like he was still consisting on the inside, weak… like a burned marshmallows insides. Perfect and warm and gooey...

“Shane… I don't know if…” Ryan mumbled, sounding like he was barely as to form words. “Shane… I think I… I like You?”

Shane breathlessly laughed, his sides were starting hurt from a lack of air. “Holy shit…” was the only response he could conjure up.

“I like you too.” He said, no hesitation in his voice. “I like you, I have liked you, Ryan, oh god…”

Ryan just giggled. Neither of them really functioning.

Ryan then pressed a soft kiss to his neck.

Shane swore again, sucking in the breath he could.

“I think I may love you.”

There they stayed for a moment. Ryan smiling into the skin of his throat… Shane not believing that any of this was real.

“You know what?” Ryan beamed.

“Me too.”

They breathed. Then they laughed. Nervous and unbelieving. And for a few moments, nothing bad was there. There was no tapping at the doors, nothing. There was no holes or cracks in their hearts, no crows, no self-doubt, just a home. A feeling that they were where they belonged. A bittersweet taste of cherries was something Ryan could imagine. Not fake this time, real sweetness. Something with A core, a pit to fall into.

There was a place to turn to, a place of help, and no judgment. It smelled of cinnamon and tea, ink and notebook paper.

Suddenly Shane, still laughing out of a complete dumbfounded new emotion shifted backward. He took Ryan by the arm and tugged him into an upright sitting position.

Shane opened his mouth to ask for another kiss, only to find Ryan already leaning in, and all he managed to do was hold his face again.

They met again, Shanes knees already a weak jello, but somehow he felt untouchable.

There was still something bubbling in his chest, a feeling that gripped at him with burning, fiery claws.

They stopped it faster, but Shane still couldn't feel like he could breathe. His lips were certainly a little more damp now, with Ryan's dancing over his own.

Finally, Shane felt all the strength rush back into him, crashing into him like a tsunami.

With his rush of adrenaline, Shane threw his arms under Ryan's legs and Back, and picked him all the way off the ground, Ryan crying out at suddenly being lifted.

“Shane!” he yelped, but it dissolved into laughter, as Shane started kissing him with vigor.

Shane doesn't think he's ever felt so light, Ryan tucked in his arms like a bride. Shane kissed at the same sweet spot under his chin, then back, and another kiss under his jaw. Ryan giggled, wrapping his arms around Shane's neck.

A kiss planted on his cheek, then to the tip of his nose. Shane melted all over again at the feeling of Ryan's nose being compresses lightly under his lips.

“Stop it!” Ryan playfully laughed. “Your beard fucking tickles!”

“Does it now?” Shane can't help but sound like the happiest, most smug asshole on the planet. He probably is.

He swings Ryan around, almost losing his balance on the slippery surface of his sleeping bags. Before planting another strong kiss on Ryan's lips.

This one lingered for a moment, needles popping the balloons in their chests, releasing the pressured, hot air inside.

Shane began to tremble again. This was a fever dream. Hot and amazing…

Ryan kept giggling, up against his mouth. Lips quivering, drawn in a smile. Shane could feel Ryan hugging his neck, and for all the times he'd thought it, it was priceless.   
“I think…” Shane managed before kissing him again. “I'm very much.” another kiss to send him spinning cut him off. “In love with you.”

“I love you too…” Ryan panted, pulling away. He's starved for air. Not because of anything physical, just because it's hard to breathe around the constant reminder that Shane was holding him, feet off the ground, kissing him like he's never loved anybody more.

“Oh, princess…” Shane almost moaned. “Holy fuck… I can't believe…”

Ryan just kept laughing, bubbling smoothly over the surface like Shanes beer from that evening. Like this is the happiest he's ever been.

“Princess, huh?” Ryan smiled, against Shane's nose as he kissed it.

“Yeah… you're my damsel in distress.”

“Oh, for fuck's sake…”

“Hey there Cinderella…”

Ryan choked around his laugh, as Shane purposefully started rubbing his stubble on his face.

“Don't do that!” Ryan swatted at him with a hand. “And don't call me Cinderella! Do not make that a thing!”

“Okay, princess.”

“oh my god!”

But there wasn't anything they would have differently about it. Shane pressing rough kisses all over Ryan's cheeks and jaw as he tucked into Shanes collarbone.

“You are… so… lightweight… holy… hell…” Shane said between his lips and Ryan's tan skin. “You need… to eat… more…”

Ryan didn't say anything just gripping on as the flurry of his chest was uncontrollable. Maybe being vulnerable really did pay off.

“I'll consider it… if it's some of that cherry pie.”

Shane chuckled. He felt like he was as floating.

“I'm sure my mom wouldn't have any problems making my new boyfriend a pie or two.”

Ryan stopped. “Is that what we are now?” he asked. He knew it sounded stupid, but he asked anyway.

“I mean…” Shane flushed further. “I was kinda… kind of hoping?”

Ryan wheezed. “Yeah-! Yeah, I just… I'm still processing?”

Shane sighed. Feeling on edge, ready to topple over all of the sudden. Knees wobbling under him. He leaned in, grazing his lips, catching one last kiss to blow him away.

Remaining, not moving their lips, but pressing together, they stayed for a time too long to be socially acceptable but it was just them…

Shane dropped Ryan with care, his feet lightly touching the ground, but Ryan's arms remained strung around his neck, looking right up at him.

And no ghosts could ever touch them.


	5. The Irony of Loneliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things get nasty and sappy and gross

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EW she finished it.

He was breathing into something soft. Shane shook his head lightly, trying to hold onto the last threads of sleep that he could.

He felt warm, and full, and he was holding, clutching onto something else. 

He prayed his eyes open, only to feel the sun on his skin. He felt as if he was in bed on a summer Sunday morning. Nobody to impress, nothing to do, no call to action other than simmering in the warmth.

His eyes fell closed again, and he clutched onto what felt like a childhood teddy bear.

Maybe he was still a six year old. No responsibilities, clutching onto his bear, Mr. Honey Nuts. Maybe things were still simple…

It was a nice thought. One that made him rest a little easier. It took another minute more to realise that his heart was not racing as hard as it felt.

There were two heartbeats. Not one.

Shane opened his eyes again, to actually start taking in what was around him. 

Ryan, sleeping, quietly breathing and slightly shifting with his arms around him. Passed out completely in a haunted house.

Shane somehow didn't feel surprised. Or panicked. He was oddly calm as he looked down with a small smile. It had been a long night of fretting, then of… nicer things.

They could afford to sleep in a little longer.

And in the sun of 12 o’clock noon, Shane let go of his consciousness.

__________

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty…” 

Ryan felt something tugging at him. He groaned. It was too early for Helen to be bugging him awake.

“Five more minutes.” He groaned, eyes not opening. 

“Ryan. It's like… two p.m…. Get the hell up.”

Ryan blinked awake. He knew that voice. Why the hell was Shane…?

Ryan almost gagged on his own saliva as he realised that Shane was… hugging him. His face buried in Shanes chest. Shane was looking down at him, not moving a muscle.

“Holy fuck… I thought I was dreaming.” Ryan admitted. “we are… you are…”

“...Yeah?” Shane says but the idea makes him smile. 

“Fuck… Shane…” but suddenly Ryan was frowning. He looked worried.

Shane immediately felt choked.

“Did I do something wrong?” Shane asked. “what's the matter?”

Ryan didn't meet his gaze. “I mean… it's nothing, but… I guess… everything's just going too fast.”

“Oh? Oh, Ryan sweetie…”

Ryan pushed him away a little bit. Shanes heart dropped. “No… I mean like… I don't know how ready I am for this yet.”

Shane froze, to intake the words. 

“Fuck… I dunno man…. I just… are you not afraid you're my rebound? I'm afraid that subconsciously I might be using you- you're my best friend, dude! What the hell are we doing?!”

Shane felt a cold ice water becoming to seep into him.

“Ryan… what are you trying to say?”

Ryan looked guilty. Almost like he was ready to cry again, which was happening way too often for Shanes liking. Partly because he had no idea how to handle grieving people, that form of sensitivity never coming easily to him, but also because there was something so hard about watching Ryan in particular, cry. 

“I'm just saying… maybe… maybe we wait.”

“We wait?” Shane sounded hopeless. He felt so too, a sadness rattling his bones.

“Look Shane… last night. I was… vulnerable. I got carried away, I just don't know… I don't know if… how much it really meant.”

“that. That meant nothing to you?!” Shane yelped. “Ryan! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” And suddenly, Shane wasn't sure if he would be crying in solitude that day.

“Shane! No! Of course it did!” Ryan tried, desperately. “it did mean something but-"

“But what, Ryan? But what?”

“I just… I need some time to process what's real and what's just… what I want to give myself.”

“God… goddamn it.” Shane swore, but it was just tiers and lifeless. “So what now, jackass? Do you just want me to… be okay with that?”

“Shane I'm sorry…”

Shane just sighed. “Whatever Ryan. I guess now you know… you know what I'm thinking. I'm just. I'm frustrated it had to go this way.”

“Me too…” Ryan sighed, before pushing all the way away. “Shane… I think I do genuinely like you but… I'm just not sure. Is all.”

Shane did soften a bit at that, only to realise that could be Ryan's way of letting him down easily.

“Fuck.” was all Shane could summon up. “I thought this would be simple.”

“I thought so too.” 

Shane Madej had never felt so alone, exposed and weak in his life. So dejected and used. Never before had he wanted to rip his button off of his shirt, and hear the lonely calling of crows outside. 

There was a cloud rolling over the sun. And the fireflies had died.

___________

“I'm so so sorry.”

It was twilight, and the rumbling of the car engine filled Shane up far more than Ryan's presence.

They'd mutually agreed to scrap the episode. Write it off as boring, and Shane had felt on edge all day. Ryan let him have the last of the Cherry pie, but it tastes too sour , trying to eat it all on his own. Salt in the wound. Insult to injury. Ryan and Shane.

“It's fine.” Shane admitted. He was still holding out hope. “that's the fourth time you be apologized this hour… relax.”

“What else am I supposed to say?!” Ryan argued. “Shane… as it stands… I may like you… I just need time."

“Ryan. This will be the fourth time I told you this hour.” Shane said, trying to summon any scrap of patience and tolerance he could. “I blew up back there. You've heard it straight from me and my mother… I'm not a fan of showing emotions like that. I'm just a little lost as to what to do. I understand that you need time. I will give you time.”

It stung, coming out of his mouth bit it was true. Why Shane was still telling the vulnerable truth to Ryan still, he has no answer.

He would give Ryan time. All the time he needed. Shane loved him too much to opt for any other option. Still, the longer the time Shane would give, the longer it would hurt. The longer he'd maintain this level of paranoia. It was going to be hard, to not just grab Ryan's face and recreate the night before… but if that's what Ryan truly needed…

“Its just weird… you know?”

Shane huffed. “Ryan… it's okay… it's been a weird couple of days… and I'm sorry that I… kinda took that opportunity.”

Ryan was looking out the window. He'd barely looked AT Shane all day. Neither had eaten either. Just nibbled at pretzels until now. 

“It's not your fault… I probably learned in first.”

Shane bit back a bitter ‘Yeah, you did’ and tried to smile. 

“Look. Can we just forget about it?”

Ryan bit his lip. “Of course. Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing!”

“Sorry!”

Shane almost let himself laugh, but chewed it away. “Jesus Christ…”

Shane pretended to keep his focus trained on the road, as Ryan's phone played a soft tune of the Gorillaz song, ‘up on melancholy hill’

“So… are we really going to scrap the whole episode?”

“Yes, Ryan. We went over this.”

“I know, I know… but there was some really compelling evidence!”

“I already looked over the camera footage from when the sappoused shadow was chasing you. There wasn't anything.”

“Well, maybe one of the thousands of viewers might see something.” Ryan protested. “That wasn't just my mind playing tricks on me.”

“I bet you the pie that it was.” Shane said. He didn't want those cherries and cinnamon anyways. 

“Really?” Ryan asked. “I'll post it right now. Just that clip. See what it was.”

“It wasn't anything!”

“What do you mean it wasn't anything!?”

“Ryan- I have no idea why what's probably just your own shadow means so much more to you then what we FUCKING HAVE.” Shane accused. “Get a fucking grip.”

_____

They did not tell me it would hurt like this  
Nobody warned me  
About the heartbreak we experience with friends  
Where are the albums i thought  
There were no songs sung for it  
I could not find the ballads  
Or read the books dedicated to writing the grief   
We fall into when friends leave  
It is the type of heartache that   
Does not hit you like a tsunami  
It ends all the same  
A loss is a loss is a loss

_____

The irony of loneliness is that we all feel it at the same time. Together.

_____

Ryan can’t get it out of his head. He knows he’s lonely. He knows he’s desperate. He knows that he wants somebody to love… 

But maybe there was something more when he looked at Shane Madej. 

Maybe it was just the nervousness. Knowing that they’d kissed and kissed the night before in front of cameras. It was amazing, and Ryan had been anticipating and suspecting it, but did that mean he really wanted it?

He was trying to do what was best. Turn Shane down until he knew for sure, but he wasn’t sure he had that kind of self control. 

The one thing that could make this situation any worse had already happened. Helen had texted him one last thing after they got in the car.

A simple message, but one that sent Ryan reeling. 

[ I guess you really do love him. I knew it. ]

And Ryan, knowing that maybe it was spite, felt that Helen might be right.

_____

Shane looked over to check the clock, only to see that it was eight at night. This car trip over to their next location to catch up with their planes was going to be unbearably long. Were Ryan had made the car ride go so fast before, not every second was worth three, and Shane felt like it would never end.

“For what it's worth though.” Ryan said, out of nowhere. “You are a really good kisser.”

Shane groaned. “Ryan, look. It’s hard enough for me as it is, can you maybe not talk about it.”

“So sorry.” Ryan said- but he meant it. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been so electrified in his life. Shane carrying him around like a princess, spinning him about, kissing him hard. “I’ve just… I’ve never kissed a guy before.”

“Ryan.”

“Sorry!”

And it dropped there again. There was blood in the water, he could smell it. Shane was practically sprawled out for him, Ryan knew everything, and all he could do was somehow make it worse. 

Could he do anything right this trip?

Shane just huffed. “Look- I want a fuckin’ milkshake. We’re stopping at the next McDonalds.”

And suddenly, all of Shane’s anger had evaporated. Disappeared into thin air like it wasn’t even there to begin with. There was something so admirable about it. That for all the mistakes Ryan had made, all the trouble he’d caused, Shane could admit his frustration and let it go that fast. Down the drain like it never happened, while Ryan just clung onto it. Clung onto things like that until it dragged him far, far under the murky dark surface. UNtil he drowned in it. No flashlights of a lighthouse to guide him back upwards, until he lost track of the sky were the crows flew, until he was drug deeper and deeper into the tea colored water of everything. Black bubbles of ink. A bitter taste.

“For a milkshake?” Ryan asked, “My MILKShANE BRINGS ALL ThE GHOSTS TO ThE YARD- and they’re like: it’s supernatural- and their like-!”

And Ryan had to stop as he burst out grinning ear to ear, Shane was laughing at his stupid joke. He could feel the cold icecaps breaking away, letting the warmth of it in. It was so refreshing. 

“You’re an idiot!” Shane choked out. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” But he was laughing and laughing. Shaking in the joy so much that Ryan was a little beat concerned he may crash. Not that that hadn’t already happened, but some instinct of his tells him that maybe bringing that up at this exact moment may be a less than ideal idea. 

“I mean… all the hunky ghosts probably want a piece of that Abercrombie man, you know?”

Shane kept laughing. There was something so satisfying about how easy it was all of the sudden. 

“Maybe they want a piece of the little guy with the holy water super soaker…” Shane proposed. ‘I know I do’... but it stayed in his mind, and never surfaced again. 

“Would you lay off of me?”

“You don’t even believe in holy water!”

“I know! It’s just better than nothing, maybe it really will work!”

Shane just chuckled. “Dear god, you never change.”

“I could say the same thing about your pathetically skeptic annoying ass.”

“Says the ghost believer. Demons aren't real, idiot.”

“Says the guy who genuinely thinks Bigfoot exists!”

“Says a guy who’s more afraid of bears then sharks!”

“Says a guy who’s main fear is getting accidentally addicted to heroine.”

“That is a perfectly normal fear to have! Needles and drugs? No thank you!”

Ryan just shook his head. Needles are nothing to be afraid of.

“I will never understand you. One creaking floorboard and you have to crawl into my fucking sleeping bag, and needles don’t freak you out a little bit?”

“What’s so terrible of a needle getting injected into your arm? It’s-“

“Nope!” Shane broke him off. “Nope, nope! We are stopping this conversation here! Fuck that!” He was already squirming nervously in his seat. “Nope. Not talking about this anymore!”

Ryan just laughed. “Whatever weirdo…” he muttered pulling out his phone. Looking at Shane was still doing weird things to his head. Every time he caught Shane’s yes he couldn’t help but remembering his feet off the ground, Shane clutching him close like a child, and kissing him like he would die if he didn’t. He’d reimagined it so many times that it felt surreal. Like maybe it was all in his head after all. 

Ryan soon had the location of the nearest McDonalds on his phone, which, who would’ve guessed, was about four miles away.

“Wow, I’m so glad you were able to retain that information.” Shane joked as soon as Ryan told him.

“Gee, thanks.”

“Look. I don’t know how to tell this to you In a way that’s new or interesting but… you’re kind of a moron.”

“Again, wants so weird about needles? They just slide right under your skin, piecing your-“

“Shut the fuck up!!!”

Ryan laughed, “Yeah, Yeah… okay… sorry.” But Shane had already moved past it.

“Asshole…”

And Ryan let Shane have that one. 

“Okay… well, I feel bad for asking but…” Shane started softer a moment of silence. “How are things going as far as getting over Helen are concerned?”

 

“How are things going?” Ryan asked. “I mean honestly, I’d kinda forgotten about it until you brought it just just now.”

Shane frowned. “Oh. Sorry then.”

“No, no, it’s all good. It wa actually a good thing… like, you make me feel better you know?”

 

Shane nodded. “And you make me feel happy as well. Also slightly annoyed with your stupid supernatural horseshit, but somewhat happy.”

 

“See, thanks there. Really feeling it love…”

It was said sarcastically, but Shane had to take a moment to really internalize Ryan saying that phrase ‘feeling the love.’ Shane knew it was a phrase, and Ryan didn’t mean it, but there was something so painfully ironic about Ryan supposedly ‘feeling the love.’

“Whatever dude… we’re that Mcdonalds?”

“Two exits from now, turn right, then another right, one block at it’s on your left.”

“Cool…”

Ryan just turned off his phone. “Hey Shane?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t mind me asking… why did you and Sarah break up? You never told anybody- and I never really felt like it was my business but now…” Now I feel like it is. 

“But now… I want to know.”

 

Shane just shrugged, his eyes on the road. It was his turn to avoid the eye contact that gave away his feelings. Emotion And, the truth. Vulnerability. 

“Well, there’s not a whole lot to be said. We went into our relationship both well aware that I’d never liked girls before her, and after a while… I felt bored of her. Not like, in a way of I didn’t like her for here, but like… I realised that the excitement I had felt wasn’t that of a crush. It was that of my closest friend.”

Ryan just started, trying to catch Shane’s eye but he still remained stubborn. “I understand that. Like… it’s almost like a best-friend-crush? Like you find a person you fancy, but not because you wanna date them, more just because you want to be their best friend?”

 

“Yeah… There’s a term for that. It’s called a squish.”

 

Ryan smiles. “Well… who knew? … A squish…” 

“Yeah… and I mistook Sarah for a crush when she was just a squish… I guess I didn’t know how to tell the difference. It was the first time I’ve ever had one.”

Shane huffed for a moment. “I’ll be honest with you Ryan, because it make no difference anymore anyways, but a few episodes of Unsolved in I thought you were my first squish. The time passed and I realised that you… just weren't… You were more Ryan. You always were.”

Ryan just sighed. He chose carefully to not respond to that one. 

“Either way… You mention that you’ve had a squish before?”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah… and it was really weird. It was the first guy I ever liked. One of three… maybe four.”

 

“Am I allowed to hear more about this guy?”

“I mean… yeah… sure I guess… When I was younger I trained like at a martial arts studio? Indonesian really obscure art, local, kid friendly all self defense like. Trained until I was fifteen, started when I was six…”

“See? And I was taking improv classes… man, I need to get my shit together.”

“You kinda do, yeah… but on like, my first day, I was super young, I saw this cute boy, chinese guy, with a yellow belt, about my age, looking like he owned the place. I don’t know what it was about that guy, but man… he was cute. Really tiny for his age, but he looked like he could wrestle a bear.”

“What is up with you and bears?”

“They are the most dominant, apex predator of the planet. Either way, I just… started talking to him. His name was Matthew, Mas Matthew. And he was amazing. Thin, wiry, active, strong. He was cool and collected, and he knew what to do. He was a great leader and I spend eight years of my life looking up to him… he was my friend, and my big childhood crush. But not really? I just thought he was a super cool guy… I think I ended up weirding him out in the end though. We went through a little bit of a rough patch and… well… I left the studio and I’ve never seen him sense.”

“You thought it was a crush for a while?”

“Yeah, for a long while there actually. He was like, the dream dude, except… I had a feeling to other people he wasn’t. He was tiny, and quiet, reserved, yet headstrong and super adorable. I don’t know. He just had a way with people. It was insane… I was probably the only person on the face of this earth that would ever get a crush on a guy like that… but he just looked so soft and cute… but then I kinda figured it out. It wasn’t a crush… it was just a very strong admiration and confusion.”

“You said you went through a rough break?”

 

Ryan just sighed. “Yeah… I started to try and talk to him outside the studio… got his number, and he started picking up a hint that I may like him and he immediately drew himself away… this was also a huge time of depression for me and I just… I was so self deprecating and he did nothing. He just shit himself away from me. He probably thought I was a freak, but when I bravely texted and asked if he did, he said he didn’t, and then it looked more desperate and creepy. Every time I would see him he just got weird. It was so awkward, and there was no reset button. No real way for me to go up to him and tell him ‘hey, so you know how you think i like you? I dont, I just wanna be your best friend’ without making it sound weird as all hell?”

Shane hummed. “So you never did figure it out?”

“No… I never did… I gotta be honest. It’s one of my larger regrets in life. I wish we could’ve been friends…”

“Sucks when friendship and love tangle, huh?” Shane agreed. “Either way, we have a drive through with our name on it.”

 

And sure enough, just before them was the McDonalds. Standing proudly with it’s dimly illuminated M struck out against the sky. 

They pulled in, and Came to an abrupt stop behind a long train of cars. 

Shane looked over at Ryan. They were going to be here for a while, and without thinking he took his book out from the glove box.

______

The necessity to protect you overcame me.   
I love you too much  
To remain quiet as you weep  
Watch me rise to kiss the poison out of you  
I will resist the temptation   
Of my tired feet  
And keep marching  
With tomorrow in one hand   
And a fist in the other  
I will carry you to freedom.

_____

 

Ryan knew it was only a matter of minutes. The smell of tea and notebook paper, the way the cried over his book as he read, respected him, loved him, liked so fucking attractive.

Ryan knew what crushes felt like. Ryan knew what squishes felt like. Ryan knew what desperation felt like.

This was love. 

He was deep, he had been so afraid of falling for Shane Madej this entire trip, so afraid of what might happen would he crash to the black bottom. WHat would shatter between them. ONly to realise that he already had fallen. He was already tumbling down, down and down. He realised as he stared at the stupidly cute way Shane would bite his lips as he reads poetry from a paper cover book full of inspired poems of his own and annotations, that he’d fallen long ago, and there was no bottom to be afraid of. Nothing to break his fall. 

He must’ve spaced out for a very long time as he drew those conclusions because, in the blink of an eyes, they were suddenly at the window.

“What can I get for you two boys?” The woman asked. A totally underpaid employee who looked ready to kneel over and die. Me too sister. Was all Ryan could conjure up in his meddled mind. 

“One medium vanilla shake, and one medium chocolate shake.” Shane told her, another instance of were Shane new exactly what to get him. Nothing on planet earth could beat a vanilla milkshake in Ryan eyes. “And one medium fry.”

Ryan just smiled. He was fully aware of Shan's weird habit of dipping fries into a milkshake. 

“Alright-” Shane graciously still paid for them, like a true gentleman. WHat a guy. 

Ryan couldn’t take his eyes off of him for a second. Had he not been saying to whole drive that Shane needed to wait for him?

He can’t remember.

They pull up to the second window, still not saying a word. Feel good Inc is humming loudly over the car's speakers as Ryan can’t take his eyes off of Shane. Why did he realise just now? And not When Shane was kissing him the night before? Holding him in his arms? WHy now? It didn’t quite make sense. 

Neither did Shane though, if you looked at it that way.

Shane’s handed their drinks, and pulls out of the drive through lazily, and immediately turns into the parking lot and stops there. Ryan can hear Shane stop applying gas to the car, but not shutting it off. It’s still alive under them as Shane hands over his cold Vanilla shake. 

There was a maraschino cherry on top, slowly bleeding into the white snow like slush of the cup. 

Shane fished out his fries, and, knocking the cherry out of the way, plunged a warm fry in. 

“Look… Ryann.” Shane started out. “I’m still sorry about last night… and I know you think you saw a ghost… again. But you didn’t… and it’s all over now.”

Ryan nodded. “I guess sometimes you’re right.”

“I’m right all the time, baby.”

Ryan just hummed in acknowledgement. 

“Hey Shane?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever heard the myth that if you can tie a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue, you’re a good kisser?”

Shane blinked. “I haven't, actually.”

Ryan grinned, pointing down to Shanes cherry resting atop his shake around his cup. “Well, we mythbust ghosts and demons all the time… why not something different? I bet you can’t”

______

How do i welcome in kindness  
When i have only practiced spreading my legs for the terrifying  
What am i to do with you  
If my idea of love is violence  
But you are sweet  
If your concept of passion is eye contact  
But mine is rage  
How can i call this intimacy  
If i crave sharp edges  
But your edges aren't even edges  
They are soft landings  
How do i teach myself  
To accept a healthy love  
If all i’ve ever known was pain.

_______

Never before had Shane felt so clumsy and stupid. And he was with Ryan. That was saying something. But somehow, failing to tie a knot with this fucking cherry stem took the cherry flavored fucking cake when it came to things he wished he could do, but couldn’t in front of Ryan Bergara. 

Rya studied him as he painfully ran the stem through his teeth. Shane didn’t even like maraschino cherries that much. They were too sweet. Too fake. The only real part was the stem, really. 

No matter what he did he just couldn’t do it. Ryan was just staring at him like there was no tomorrow. 

“You need some help there?” Ryan joked. 

“Shut up, Bergara.” He growled playfully. But he’d be lying if he weren't a little bit disappointed that he couldn’t do it. 

“Fine.” Ryan smiled, and before Shane knew it, Ryan’s face was close to his. 

Ryan’s hand grabbed at the front of his shirt in a fist, and pulled him in. 

Shane didn’t even have time to breathe before Ryan’s soft lips were on his own, kissing feverently. 

There was very little time to think about anything, before Shane felt the air knocked out of his lungs forcefeully ,and His hands were seeking fistfuls of Ryan’s harid behind his head, tugging him as close as they could get.   
It was a warm feeling, Shane felt like his chest was on fire in an instant. He was choking up on the feeling. 

Shane unashamedly groaned into Ryan. “Fuck… princess…”

But Ryan wouldn’t let him speak, lips moving to over his own were ever they moved. Fireworks snapping inside of him, he was so dizzy and so grounded all at once, like Ryan would kill him. Ryan Bergara would be the end of him. No doubt about it.

Shane was trembling in his own skin by the time that Ryan took it a step even further. Shane Suddenly felt an additional pressure on his lips,a tongue, timidly tracing Shane’s lips. 

Shane could feel the bursts inside of him, could reel the bubbling warm syrup drip into his brain, and flood him, dragging him lightly away from sanity. Losing himself in this feeling. 

Soon, Ryan’s tongue slid slightly between his lips. 

The first instent that theirs tounge touched, Shane could feel Ryan shaking under him. Trembling together in to surreality of it all. 

He felt Ryan getting braver by the moment. Wet mouths, the warm feeling, AHnae carding his fingers in Ryan’s hair as he pulled him as close as they could possibly be. 

Soon, he caught on what Ryan was doing, and his face flushed red with blood, he could feel lt. Ryan’s touge sliding smoothly in his mouth, Shane not pushing back, just staying close to it. 

Ryan had coaxed the cherry stem out of hiding, and was tying a knot with it in Shane’s mouth for him. Though, Shane could feel his trembles f nervousness. 

Ryan, after finishing his knot, didn’t retract, not right away. 

It wasn’t that Shane couldn't breathe through his nose, he just couldn’t breathe at that moment. He felt like a whole slew of demons were pressing all the life out of him, as Ryan kissed him hard. 

Ryan’s arms had moved from cupping his face, to wrapped tightly behind his neck hugging it just like he’d done the night before in his panic. Shane wouldn’t shrug it away. 

Finally they seemed to slow down, somehow making the painful sting in Shane’s ribs ever harsher. He felt like he needed to reach out and clutch Ryan even closer, and kiss him like this for the rest of forever, and it still wouldn’t be enough. And if this was what love felt like…

WHat does love look like?

Ryan finally took his tongue out from between Shane’s lips. 

If this was what love looked like, then love looked pretty good.

Ryan finally peeled away, just an inch. Still holding him close, face even closer. 

“Looks like you’re a good kisser after all.” Ryan smiles. “Look at you… tying that all by yourself.”

Shane looked at Ryan to see him, with a full red face. 

“Anything for you, princess…” And Shane’s knees were weaker than ever.

From behind Ryan, out the distant window he saw a flock of crows flying away as a group, cawing. But he couldn’t hear them.

“I think I’m about done lying to myself.”

 

“Well… that was faster than I thought.” Shane admitted. “Are you sure about this?”

“Never more sure.” Ryan admitted. “Shane- I am so fucking in love with you. To a disgusting degree.”

 

And just because he could, Shane leaned in to steal another kiss. It still was sending him reeling. Like maybe none of this was real. 

“Never say that again. I love you too…”

And Shane kissed him again. 

“I love your stupid smile.”

He missed his nose. “I love your cute little nose.”

A kiss between his eyes. “And the way you look at me…”

A kiss to his forehead. “And how smart you are.”

Another kiss to the forehead. “And how funny you are…”

A kiss to his temple. “And how kind you are.”

A kiss to his ear. “And how nice our voice sounds.”

A hard kiss to his cheek. “And how you’re so cute when you’re scared…” 

Another kiss there. “And how flustered you get.”

A kiss to the other cheek. “And how pretty you are in the morning.”

Kissing his chin, in that sweet spot right under it. “And how pretty your skin is.”

Kissing down his adam’s apple. “And show you cling to me…”

Kissing the side of his neck. “And how well you know me.”

Ryan’s laughing, repressed nervous giggling coming from him as he rushed to process it all. 

Shane went back up and kissed his lips again “I love you’re dumb little laugh.. How you like all my dumb jokes…”

 

Kissed him again, with Ryan lightly time being under him, and Shane still shaking, tremors waking him. 

“I am so in love you…”

“I love you too…” Ryan breathes out. “I love you, I love you, I love you…”

“You are not going anywhere without me again, you hear me?”

“So long as you don’t leave me…” Ryan breathed. 

“Never will, Princess. I promise you that.” And they kissed again. More relaxed this time, but still just as amazing. It tasted of Sweet syrup on cherries. And smelled of cinnamon, and tea, and ink, and notebook paper. The low hum of music in the background with no crows outside to haunt them. They had all the help they would ever need. There was no ghosts to haunt them. No fears and no doubts. Ryan’s relationship with Helen was broken, in his pocket, and he saw clearly now, even without his glasses, what was truely in front of him the whole time. It had a scruffy beard, and called him princess. 

 

_______

 

There is nothing left

To worry about

The sun and her flowers and her love are here

And here to stay.

Shane Madej  
______

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been sitting in my drive for 6 months. sorry if you were waiting on it!!! I FORGOT TO POST IT


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